A/N: This is just another story that was chasing itself around in my head. Some of you may know me from my other story, Loving You Kills Me. This is slightly happier than LYKM, but it's not a Meg Ryan romance. The two stories are (I like to think anyway) completely different from each other. Whereas LYKM was about how love can change and destroy people, this story is about how hate can turn into something completely different.

So enjoy!


October 21 2004

He was never perfect. Sometimes I think that's what made him so perfect for me. I was a Catholic and he was a Jew. I was a junior and he was a senior. I was a softball player and he was a soccer player. I was practically a prude and he was a manwhore. While I was straightening my hair he was getting his cut into a mohawk. He was popular and I was a wallflower. I was smart in the way that required copious notes, careful studying and memorization, as well as long hours put into understanding the theories behind the laws. He was smart in the way that slept during class, skipped class, looked at the book two minutes before the test and managed to get a perfect grade. I was structured, disciplined, and steadfast. I basically stood for everything that he was against. We never got along together. In fact, I hated him when I first met him. If I could have run him over with my beautiful car and made it look like a painful accident I would have.

And, as is the case with my life, I was put together with him for about fifty percent of my time. We worked together, and we even had several classes together. Do you know how difficult it is working with someone who you absolutely abhor? Our sadistic manager would occasionally put us together in the small ice-cream parlour/burger joint, doing nothing but working with each other. He had a crush on that manager, and can anyone say statutory rape? As far as I know their "thing" never went any farther than giggly flirting but they would go back into the office sometimes and not emerge for several minutes. And besides, it didn't make any difference. He changed girlfriends and lovers the same way that he changed boxers. No. really. I'm sure that he changed his boxers once a week. It was amazing that he didn't have an STD or three. Or who knew? Maybe he did. But I digress.

It had been a particularly trying night and I was tired of everyone's company. So who comes along just when I'm bending over, scrubbing the floor in a particularly embarrassing position with my bum sticking up in the air? You guessed it. David Neilsen, my arch-nemesis. "Nice look for you Kendra," he commented, leaning against the door. I turned around and my feet slipped in some water, but I managed to keep my balance.

I smirked at him, mimicking his expression perfectly. He was tall, maybe about 6'2" with tan skin and black hair. When he was smiling he could look like the angelic embodiment of perfection, but how often was he smiling at me? He liked his girls small, blonde, and preferably stupid. I was tall, 5'9" to be exact, had short brown hair, a few too many pounds to be considered statuesque and was bordering on being a nerd. I liked my boys with a little bit of a brain and humanity, thank you very much.

"Shut up," I replied smoothly. All right, perhaps not my best comeback ever, but you have to give me credit for coming up with anything at all. When you're caught in position it is rather hard to think. I glanced over my shoulder. David was still leaning up against the door. "Don't you have to do a job?" I asked him, hoping to shame him by the force of my glare.

"I'll get around to it," he said nonchalantly. I tried to scrub my floors and get them squeaky clean, but it's nearly impossible to do work when someone is staring intently at your back. I finally turned around angrily and threw my towel on the counter.

"What do you want?" I asked him angrily. David shrugged and folded his arms. I gave the floor up as a lost cause and seized a pot that was up front, bringing it back to the sink area to wash out. David continued to stand behind me, watching as my anger grew.

"Kendra, you know I wouldn't do this to you if it didn't annoy you so much," he said. I could practically hear the sneer in his voice. I turned around to face him, prepared with some witty retort. I had forgotten that I held the water hose in my hand and it sprayed David across the chest. Within seconds his shirt was soaked all the way through. And say what else you wanted to about David, God knows that I had, but he did have a sexy body. Those coaches at his soccer team did not know what they had created or else they would want to lock it up in a cage to keep it away from the lusty females.

I kept the hose on David as he turned around, trying to shield his body. I cackled and turned back to the sink where my dishes were waiting. David interrupted my dish-washing by spraying me across the thighs with the other water hose across the room. I shrieked, my scream drowning out the questions of my co-workers. David did not stop until he was sure that I was completely soaked, my hair included. But he was not done yet. I started screaming and yelling as I felt him sweep me off of my feet. He carried me over his shoulder, ignoring the way that my small fists beat upon his muscled back.

"I swear to God if you don't put me down right now…" I threatened, feeling his chuckle in my diaphragm. He knew that I had no way of backing up my threats. He carried me out to the back door and unceremoniously dropped me out. It was October in Massachusetts and quite cold. I chafed my wet arms and looked up at him. "Let me back in," I whined, gazing plaintively up at him.

"Hell no," David laughed and closed the door. I heard it lock and knew that the front doors were already locked. I pounded on the door, screaming out promises and curses in turn. I shivered and was unable to stop. I looked around desperately for an idea, and then a perfectly evil idea came to me. I took out my key ring and walked over to David's beautiful red Mustang. Then I took out my cell phone and dialed the number for the restaurant. Surprise, surprise, David was the first person to pick up the phone.

"Thank you for calling Burgers and Such, how can I help you?" It's amazing how polite he can be when he's not talking to me.

"Hello darling," I purred seductively. I heard him chuckle and his footsteps as he walked around.

"So, Kendra Cumming," he said, trying to stall for time. "Had enough of the weather out there? Ready to be polite and civil when you come back in?" God, I hated that superior tone in his voice. I was going to do everything in my power to break that.

"Dearest, you might want to look outside in the parking lot," I said, idly leaning against his car and slowly drawing my key down over the shiny red paint. There was no mark-not yet. I heard the slight noise of the door opening. I turned and grinned, waving to him and making sure that he could see the shiny reflection of my keys from the outside light. I put them against his car.

"I was going to practice some of my verb conjugation for Spanish on your car," I informed him cheerfully, hearing his exclamations of horror. God, how I loved bringing him down a peg or two. It did my heart good. "And then I was going to sign my name to it, and let everyone know who was with your car. So. Do you want to let me in or not?"

"Get in!" David screeched, the panic in his voice full-blown as I gently touched the tip of my key to the hood of his car. "Get in, get in, get in!" I skipped happily towards the door, blowing him a mock kiss once inside.

"Thanks sweetheart," I said sarcastically into the phone before hanging it up. I had made it three steps past the office when I heard what I had been dreading.

"Kendra!" I winced and walked in to face my doom. Our manager, the one that David had a crush on, was sitting comfortably in her chair, totaling up the money that we had made that day. "Sit down," she commanded, jerking her head towards the other chair.

If there ever was a case of extreme irony in a child's naming it would have to be that of Chastity Songer. Her parents must have been either naïve or in denial to not realize what their daughter was: a bit of a slut. But we loved her for her humor and for her ability to keep things moving swiftly, or at least efficiently. She kept us all running along, in my case plodding. And she was also the enforcer of the law, as I was about to find out.

"Why are you all wet?" she asked, not bothering to look up from a receipt that she was studying. I shifted in the chair, aware of the water droplets that were hitting the ground.

"Um….David and I had a fight?" I asked, knowing that she would not buy this answer. She sighed and shook her head. Fortunately, my savior came along in the person of Cameron Lindy, my best friend and one of David's friends. If you thought that it would be easy to be both of our friends, think again. He was constantly being pulled one way or the other.

"Baby!" Chastity squealed, wheeling over to him and throwing her arms into the air. She continued to make over him for several minutes, all in a very high pitched shriek.

"Hey," I greeted him calmly. Cameron smiled at me, leaning against the wall. He was skinny, just an inch taller than me with shaggy brown hair, bright blue eyes, a moustache and a goatee that constantly threatened to become a beard. I thought that he was the only guy that I knew that looked good with facial hair, besides our other manager Robert Corr. Robert was an old, old man, nearly twenty six, who regularly shaved his head because he "liked to look intimidating". Yet his small beard always stayed put, as did his earrings and small tattoo on the back of his wrist. Ah, life at Burgers and Such was filled with such interesting people.

The tiny office received another body when David decided to join us. We now had me, Chastity, Cameron, Robert, and David in the room that was approximately two feet wide. Now two members of Chastity's harem were present and while Cameron might be one of its members, David was its leader and King. I think glass shattered at the pitch of her squeals.

"Flex for me," she demanded, running her hand up and down his arm. Thank God this was after hours. And the owner wonders why we never get anything done. It's because we have Chastity and testosterone working in the same place. David chuckled and did as she requested, tensing up his arm so that Chastity could run her hands over his sculpted forearms.

"Oh for God's sake!" I cried out, shielding my eyes from this display of hormones. "If you two are going to have sex then at least do it in the office when there's a closed door and we're not here. And come to think about it, don't have sex in the office period," I snapped.

"Aw, Kendra's just upset because she's not getting any," Chastity laughed. Really, you might think that she's a bit cruel, but she's a nice person. She's just insensitive sometimes and a bit stupid when it comes to David and boys in general, but that's all right.

"Well, I could help her out there," David chuckled, his eyes twinkling evilly as he looked at me. "You're probably not putting out a lot," he said, looking over me. "I could help you there too; help you know where and how…" His voice trailed off as I hit him in the shirt with a scoop of laundry detergent. Why do we have laundry detergent in the office in the first place? Anyway. Since the detergent landed on his soaked shirt there were little bubbles all over his chest, which I thought was rather amusing. I pointed at his chest and started to crack up in laughter, ignoring the way that everyone started to back away from me in fear.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Cameron stage-whispered to Robert. "I think whatever's going around here might be catching." Robert nodded and the two boys backed out of the office. This left me, David, and Chastity alone in the office, Chastity still groping the muscles in David's forearm.

"I need to go and do a job," I told them, getting up from my chair and walking out of the office. I turned around to look back at them because I just couldn't help myself. "Do you want me to close the door?" I asked with a huge grin on my face.

"Kendra, don't be such a bitch," David said to me, no trace of mirth in his face. My face wrinkled into an expression of extreme dislike and I was getting ready to say something hateful before a different strategy came into my mind.

"Why David, I think you made my heart just skip a beat," I said, mockingly putting my hand over my heart. "With sweet words such as those, how do you manage to keep the girls away?" Laughingly maniacally, I walked away, my giggles and laughs carrying throughout the entire restaurant. Yeah, I do amuse myself way too much.

My laughs were not enough to drown out Cameron's whispered words to Robert: "Yeah, it's definitely catching."

David was vile, rude, selfish, sexist and possibly a fascist pig. I, of course, was practically perfect in every way, as all women are. I wasn't a damsel in distress and I wasn't waiting for my prince in shining armor. David was in no way or form chivalrous or a member of gentry and he was in fact, quite a jerk to me. I wasn't looking for perfect, and he wasn't perfect.

You know, looking back on it now, I'd have to say that this beginning was almost perfect, but how often do things stay that way?