𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 // 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚣𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗

Chapter 1 - Ruined

~ Author's Note ~
So, I know this is the fourth fan fiction I have started writing, and it is the third about Antoine Griezmann. Yes, maybe I am kind of obsessed. But I am really trying to make sure that all the fan fictions differ from each other, despite them all being about the same excellent player that I love, and you likely do too, if you are reading this right now. I really do hope you can just enjoy this one, and hopefully maybe some of my others, too. I really am trying hard on this one, too. Putting a lot of effort into it, so I hope it'll be as good as I'm feeling it will be. Forgive me, but I'm like always overflowing with fanfiction ideas. I just think this one will be good. I really do.
Okay, now I hope I didn't just hype it up too much.
I've always kind of like really loved the enemies to lovers trope, so I decided, 'Why not do one with Antoine Griezmann? You love Antoine Griezmann and enemies to lover, so why not combine them?' So that how we got here.
Enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! <3

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

Reese's Perspective

It is a new school year, and a new start, and I can tell it is going to be good.

Or at least that is what I am hoping. But I guess you never know what might come your way.

I step up the steps to this old trash dump, holding my head high, ready to conquer the world with my hot looks and temper.

I strut down the hall, leading to where my locker should be, and just as I am thinking about how much of the girl heartthrob I'm going to be this year since some of the nasty cheerleading girls left, and how all the boys are totally going to fall for me, I fall for a boy.

But in a completely different sense.

I quite literally fall. Because of a boy. I guess because I was so busy holding my head so high, I did not realize when someone's nasty sneaker sticks out right under my foot, tripping me and causing me to fall to the ground.

And then the stupid laughing begins, and I know exactly who this is.

And the rage enters. It boils, like it so often does.

I hear his nasty little voice laugh like this is the funniest thing in the world, exclaiming, "Look at what an idiot! Why don't you watch where you are walking next time, huh? Maybe that wouldd b-"

I grab the stupid boy's nasty collar, feeling all the eyes on me of all the other boys who were previously laughing at me. "Who do you think you are? Because I am not who you think I am, because I am not going to be taking your bulls*** this year, got it? This is my last year of being in this trash dump, if you did not know, since I'm sure you're going to be a super senior, and my goal is to try to avoid the worst rotten garbage in this dump as much as I can- you. So leave me alone, Antoine, you got in your little head of yours?"

He's staring at me, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, and obviously trying to hold back laughter.

"Yeah, grin all you want," I say, grinning right back at his stupid face. "Grin all you want. But you won't be grinning if you keep this up, because a couple of scenes like this, and you might get a little boo boo, Antoine. Maybe, like, a little bruise on your eye? Maybe a little something called a black eye? That might be nice, wouldn't it! So I'd watch what you do and say, because I decided that after all these years, I'm done with you. Done with you. So if I see you merely looking at me, or simply mention my name, you're going to be sorry, m'kay? Got that?"

His eyebrows are now raised, and I hate him, because I can never figure out what's going on in his head. Maybe that's just the problem. Maybe nothing is never going on in his head, and he just does things without thinking.

But he's got to be feeling something, right? So what's going on in that puny little brain of his?

When he doesn't say anything, I pull his collar tighter, "I want to enjoy my last year here, and I don't want you ruining it, like you did with all other five years of being in this hell. So tell me you won't bother me, and I won't bother you! Tell me!" I say, getting right up in his face.

"Ew, disgusting," he smirks. "You spit in my face, and your breath smells like my dog's."

"You're not funny, Antoine."

"Not trying to be. Just saying the truth."

I stare at him, wishing I could just burn two holes into his head, right where I'm looking at. I wish I could do so many things to him right now, but I don't and simply let go of him, shoving him against the wall, and stalk back down the hall, continuing to my locker.

"Sorry, Reesy, but I'm afraid I can't leave you alone!" I hear Antoine call behind me. "Because your reactions are just too golden to stop!"

I turn around just one more time to call back to him, "Good, I'm glad. That means I'll be able to see the golden look on your face when it's covered in blood and bruises!"

"Good, weakling, I'm looking forward to it!"

"You better be!" I say, turning around on my heels, simmering with a kind of anger that you probably wouldn't understand.

I go to my locker and head to my class, but my whole day is ruined, because I can't stop silently raging.

Sure, I have anger issues, but not this bad. In order to understand my unbelievably intense bad emotions about that kid, Antoine Griezmann, I'll have to bring you back to about five years ago, when we first met, and it all began.