
I claimed to hate him, he claimed to hate me. Everyone else thinks we're in love. Cliché? You have no idea.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Chapters: 6 - Words: 16,725 - Reviews: 81 - Favs: 41 - Follows: 67 - Updated: 09-05-12 - Published: 03-24-12 - id: 3007731
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Dedicated to S.L., one of my closest friends—practically my sister—who encouraged and helped me in not only my writing but everything else too.
This one's for you, sista!
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One
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He was aggravating, annoying, and disgustingly arrogant. He was just about everything that I hated, and yet, he was oddly… attractive. No, I don't mean physically, although I have to admit that yes, he was drop-dead-gorgeous. Like, hot to the millionth power—but that's beside the point. He was stubborn and cruel and knew every way to get under my skin. I absolutely hated him. But at the same time, there was something about him that caught everyone's attention, besides his looks, that is. He had the confident aura to him which I usually found annoying and toxic, but at the same time, his presence always made me sit up straighter or stay awake no matter how boring the current lesson was. It was something about him and I wanted to know what it was.
We had met four years ago during freshman year of high school. Yes, you could probably say that it was hate at first sight. I'm not sure why I hated him, maybe it was his over-confidence, something that I lacked. Maybe it was the way he held himself to seem all powerful and above the rest of us, or maybe it was just the fact that he had the carefree life that I wanted but didn't have. He practically had everyone in the school worshipping him, kissing the very ground he walked on, and that was enough to get on my nerves.
Why he hated me? Now that was a different question all together. I was never sure why. He just did. The first time we talked was already practically a full on verbal war—it was that bad. Maybe we just weren't compatible in general, I don't know. All I know is that I hated his guts and he hated mine. If he would've died right at my feet, I doubt I would even shed a tear and you know, vise versa.
Ever since that verbal war when we were nothing but mere fourteen year olds, we've had this mutual hate-hate relationship. We couldn't stay in the same room without ending up yelling at each other. Most people got used to it, dismissing our bickering as if it were just a casual daily routine, which I guess by now, it is. Only, someone just had to make up rumors of how we're in love and hiding our feelings. Yeah, excuse me while I go puke.
So I claimed to hate him, he claimed to hate me. Everyone else thinks we're in love. Cliché? You have no idea.
I stomped angrily into my room, slamming the door so hard that my best friend, Julie Andrews, gave a little jump and shot me a look over her shoulder. I ignore the pointed glare aimed in my direction and rubbed my temples. "He is so—so….ugh!" I yelled.
"Gosh, Lex. Calm down." Julie said, plopping onto my bed.
I glared at her, "I will not calm down!" I said defiantly, "He is so aggravating!"
Julie got a bored look on her face as she studied the floral pattern on my bed spread. I snapped my fingers in her face. "Julie!"
She looked up and grinned. "I know. He's aggravating, and annoying, and arrogant," she said, counting off her fingers, "But you forgot to mention absolutely the best eye candy I've ever seen."
I narrowed my eyes at her and she gave a playful shrug. I groaned, I've got a traitor as a best friend. "Traitor." I muttered. She only laughed and I shot her another glare.
Julie Andrews, my best friend for four years. I had met her when I moved to this town the same day I had met him. During our first verbal war, Julie had come running over to help me out. She flipped him off when he had called me a particularly crude name—I had taken an instant liking in her.
"Oh, hey," she said, reaching up to my bulletin board. She plucked a photo off its respectful place and stared at it. "When did you find this one?"
I squinted at the photo and swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat. "A while ago." I whispered. Julie placed a comforting arm around my shoulders.
"She's so pretty. I wish I could've met her." She said. "What was her name again?"
"Hailey." I said softly, running a finger over the photo. "I miss her so much."
"I know." Julie said.
"You know, we used to share a room." I said, gesturing to the photo, "My mom always said that sisters were required to share a room. And then, the year before I moved here, my mom finally gave in and gave each of us our own room. I was ecstatic at first. Now, I wish we had still shared a room so we could've spent a little more time together."
"She's watching over you." Julie whispered, giving my shoulders a small squeeze.
"I know." I replied, shaking my head slightly, "It was a long time ago. It's high time to move on."
Julie gave me a sympathetic smile and I glared. I hated those smiles. I had gotten my fair share of them at Hailey's funeral.
"You know what? It's way too tense in here for my liking." I declared.
Julie laughed and suddenly, all the tension disappeared. "Better." I said.
"Much." She agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically. "So anyways, what did he do this time?" she asked, referring to our earlier conversation.
"Gosh, would you just shut up for once?" I said hotly.
He threw his head back and laughed, "You're telling me to shut up? Hey, it's not like I enjoy hearing your voice either." He shot back.
"Then why pick a fight?" I bit back.
"It's fun." He said simply, "You get riled up easily, you're practically my entertainment."
I fumed. He was practically using me as if I were one of his pathetic followers. "You are a fucking bastard, Lavanson." I said venomously.
"And you're a good for nothing bitch, Brooks." He mimicked, putting emphasis on my last name.
I had to admit, despite being used to all the bickering between us, that stung—but no way was I going to show him. "Thanks." I said sarcastically, "But you're not much better. A self-absorbed asshole is barely a step up."
"I beg to differ." He said with a smirk.
I wanted to slap that smile right off his face. Yeah, that would show him. How would he feel if he didn't look perfect for once? I curled my fist at my side and he noticed.
"You want to fight me, Brooks?" he asked, sounding amused, "Usually, I'd say I don't hit girls—but you're hardly a girl."
I pinned him with a death glare, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You don't swoon over me like every other girl, you're definitely not the best looking…" he said, smirking again, "Oh and did I mention you're scared of driving?"
I felt my spine stiffen and I had the urge to run away, but that would mean allowing him to win. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment and when I opened them again, he was staring down at me, pressing his lips together as if trying to stifle a laugh.
I forced a laugh, as if his words didn't get to me. "Oh, playing that card again? I would think you'd have something better, Drew."
"As much as I hate you, Alexandra, I don't want to kill you." He drawled.
My spine stiffened even more if that was possible. I hated it when people used my full name and he knew it. That alone was already a clear jab at me. But I knew as much about him as he knew about me, "So, Drew, wouldn't it be awesome if I told everyone at school that your middle name is Patricia?" I asked with as much fake sweetness as I could muster.
His expression darkened and all of the amusement slipped off his face. I could barely contain my glee knowing that I had some good blackmail. Personally, I thought it was pretty sweet to honor your grandmother by inheriting her name, but to Drew, it was embarrassing. His image was important to him which sometimes came to my advantage. As for me, no matter how much crap he tried to spread about me, I wouldn't care.
"If you even try—" he started.
"Then what?" I challenged, "You'll ruin me? You can't do that. I don't care about my social image, remember?" I said, smirking at the look on his face. "Your left eye is twitching." I remarked, laughing.
He unconsciously lifted his hand to his eye. Then he glared at me. I smiled falsely in return.
I pushed on, "Actually, I do know quite a few things about you. I could ruin you." I said, not that I would. I hated him, yes, but I wasn't really cruel or cold hearted. Now that I think about it, I think he brings out the worst in me.
His eyes flashed angrily and he raised his hand, and then dropped it again.
"You're going to hit me, Drew?" I said, "My face is right here." I pointed to my cheek. "Just wait until they hear this! Drew Lavanson hit a girl!" I clapped my hands as if to emphasize my point. "That'd be rich."
"I wasn't going to hit you." He said, "I'm not stupid."
"Really? Could've fooled me." I said.
"You know what, Brooks?" he said.
"Yeah?" I asked, my tone bored and uncaring.
"You should try driving one day." He said with a smirk.
My head hurt suddenly and I clenched my fists again. I remembered how I had called out her name to get out of the way, but it was too late. I snapped my eyes back open again.
"And you should get another name tag, Patricia." I shot back, turning on my heel; I strode down the hall before he could respond. As long as I had gotten the last word, I had won—and that felt good.
"Miss Brooks, would you please give me the answer to number twenty one?" my math teacher asked.
"Oh, um I didn't get that problem." I said. Isn't it wonderful how teachers always call on you when you least want them to? Note my sarcasm. "I didn't understand that one."
Before the teacher could respond, another too-familiar voice rang out, "Don't worry, Mrs. Lyson, you taught it perfectly fine, but we all know that Lex isn't that bright."
I turned around in my seat and scowled at Drew.
The teacher tsked and waved her pen in his direction. "Mr. Lavanson, I don't know what it is between you and Miss Brooks, but if you can't settle your love life privately, please at least do it in any class but mine."
I shot straight up from my seat. "There is no love life between us!" I said, frantically waving my arms around. The rest of the class snickered. Drew looked revolted. I mirrored his expression.
Mrs. Lyson raised her eyebrows doubtfully, "Hm. Well, I apologize for the misconception."
"I would say that's okay, but it's not." Drew said from his desk.
I scrunched my face into a very unappealing look of disgust, directing it to Drew. "We hate each other." I said flatly. "Isn't it kind of obvious?" I said firmly but not rudely.
"Yes, well, I'm sorry. I misinterpreted your bickering." The teacher said. The class snickered some more.
I was pretty sure I was red in the face. Me and Drew? Puh-lease.
"That's okay." I said gallantly.
"No it's not." I heard him grumble. I rolled my eyes at his immature behavior but returned to the lesson none the less.
I was relieved when the bell finally rang thirty two minutes later. I didn't think I could bear another second of all the giggling behind me. I gathered my notebook and textbook and proceeded out the door. I was at the doorway when two of Drew's friends bumped into me, knocking my stuff over on accident; they didn't seem to notice. I scowled and bent down to retrieve my belongings.
"Dude!" One of them bellowed, "I think I Mrs. Lyson is growing on me." He said, cracking up.
His other friend howled with laughter as another friend joined them. They quickly filled him in on the incident and pretty soon, all three of his friends were doubling over with laughter. Drew stood there looking livid.
"That was a misinterpretation." He said angrily as if disgusted by the thought. Then again, I had felt the same way.
"Sure it was." His friend chimed.
He looked at him incredulously, "Are you serious? Do you think there's something going on between me and Brooks?" he said my name as if it were a disease.
I finished gathering my stuff and stood up. One of his friends I recognized as Gabe noticed me. He looked at my newly retrieved belongings.
"Oh, sorry, did I push you?" he asked.
"Yeah, but it's fine." I assured him.
He nodded and smiled, but I noticed the way his eyes flicked over to Drew.
I smirked and winked at him, "So, Drew, embarrassed that you secretly have the hots for me?"
His friends snickered and tried to stifle their laughter.
He glared, "I hate you, Brooks, and you know it."
I grinned, "Don't worry, I hate you too."
And we shook on it. The feeling was mutual.
A/N: Reviews? (:
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