To Hate is to Love

•7• We'll make him so jealous...

[Pete]

What the hell am I doing here? Why am I loitering outside of a college? Why am I sitting on the hood of Patrick's car? Why am I waiting for him? Why am I texting him during class? I repeat, what the hell am I doing?

I don't know.

I mean, I'm well aware of what I'm doing. But I don't know why I'm doing it. I barely know Patrick. We're not friends, we're hardly acquaintances. I've literally found out of his existence a week ago and yet I'm drawn to him like an insect to the moon.

He's like me in a lot of ways, but that's not why I keep finding my way to wherever he may be. I think it's because I envy him. Honestly, there are so many pieces of Patrick that define who he is, so many great qualities that I, myself, lack. Now that I think of it, that sounds ridiculous; my jealously being the reason I like him. Sounds dumb, doesn't it? I know. I just want him to maybe like me back but for a different reason. Maybe there's something about me that he likes, or maybe he enjoys my company or...nah, I doubt it. There's nothing that I even like about myself. I don't have one of those qualities that draws attention to me, well at least not any good attention. I'm a hot-headed fuck who can barely keep friends, if I can even call them that. They hate me, I know it. Why they put up with my shit, is beyond me. Maybe Patrick's just someone else who's getting caught up in my hurricane of disaster.

I hope he gets trapped and drowns in it.

[Patrick]

My phone keeps buzzing in my pocket. I try to ignore it because Mr. Hoppus is lecturing, but I guess it won't hurt to check. It's not like Hoppus pays any attention to the back of the room anyway.

I pull my phone from my pocket and read the name on the screen. Of course it's Pete.

Pete: dude its hot af out here when does class let out

Me: Like a half hour. Why are you even outside?

Pete: waiting on you duh

Me: So I can drive you home again?

Pete: no i wanna hang out with you. home is boring. cant you just ditch the rest of class

Me: No.

Pete: please

Me: Nope.

Pete: pretty please

Me: How about no.

Pete: damn you. fine Ill wait but I wont like it

I chuckle lightly to myself then put my phone away. Pete may be an asshole but he's not that bad of a guy, sometimes. Sure, his temper gets the best of him more often then not but I'm sure it's not all his fault. There must be a reason behind it, something that started it all. But it's none of my business. If he decides to share his origin story with me then that's fine, and if he doesn't then that's fine too. I prefer to keep my personal life to myself, no one needs to know and no one cares. I've heard that confiding in others is good for you, that it lifts weight off your chest, that it lets off steam, or whatever other ridiculous reason. Confiding isn't meant for everyone. Confiding doesn't help everyone. To me, people are like puzzle pieces; everyone's a different shape and size and only fit in places that are right for them. Where they belong. Pete and I are the pieces that are put in just to throw you off and make you think we fit somewhere when really we don't. We're the ones that don't belong. The world is as fucked up as we are and yet there's a place for everyone else. Maybe that's why I tolerate him, because of one common status. Because no matter how much he may get under my skin on his bad days, we're the same. Of every other common trait we may have between us, that's the only one I'm aware of simply because I don't know him that well. I don't know, we could have more in common than I think we do. I just have to find out what.