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𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆.
Antoine's Perspective
I am slightly excited after the first day of school, for the year. I think things are going to go great. It's going to be the best year. I just know it.
I'm excited about my friends, hanging out, football, homecoming dance. You know. I'm excited about all the things that most guys like me would be excited about.
I'm also excited, though, about Reese Mallory Abbott. When I spoke to her on the first day of school, and she grabbed my collar, and acted all tough, I couldn't help from laugh. She's always been below me, and now she's trying to climb up to my level. So if she keeps on that goal, I think this year with her will be quite interesting. More interesting than last year, at least.
I think I want to test some things out with her. To see her reaction. I love seeing her reaction. She reacts, and that's why I love our relationship.
She's too interesting to give up. To ignore. And she knows she hates me too much to leave me alone now.
I want to try out how she's going to react to some one-on-one tormenting, instead of public humiliation. Will she still act so tough? I doubt it. She'll fall back into her natural fearful instinct.
I know this is disordered, but our relationship is so bad, it's perfect. I like it like this. I love that she hates me. She hates that I love hating her.
It really isn't as complicated as it sounds. I just do want I want to her, because she's who I have always done what I want to. Ever since I've remembered. I think of her as someone I'm actually quite close to. We understand each other. We just understand the awful stuff about each other, and hate each other for it.
It's all quite simple, actually.
After school, after all our classes, I find Reese Mallory's locker relatively easily. I'm really good at finding her, for some reason. She always pops out to me in a crowd. I think that greatly annoys her, because whenever we're in the same place together, I'm there to torment her.
I love that she hates me.
I slip between a few people, then use my elbow to slam her shoulder into the locker in front of her from behind. She lets out a pathetic, girly sounding squeal. I can't help from laugh out loud at her, remembering how tough she tried to seem yesterday morning. No matter what she does, she is still the old Reese Mallory I know. No matter how spunky she acts. No matter how old we get. She swirls around, trying to harden her brown eyes. She doesn't do a very good job of that. "Antoine..." she says, her teeth clenched. "I thought I told you to leave me alone."
"And you thought that would stop me?" I snort. This is genuinely funny. "No matter what you say, you're still Reese Mallory."
"How many times have I told you not to call me that?!" she says a little too loudly, giving me a tap in the chest. I think it was supposed to be a push? I'll give her a little bit of credit, I guess- She gives me a very light shove in the chest. There. I wouldn't want to give Reese Mallory any less respect than she deserves.
Even though she doesn't really deserve much respect in the first place.
"Why don't you like it? You don't like anything I call you. Reese Mallory, Reesy, or simply shorty? Why don't you like them, huh? They're just affectionate nicknames...!" I can't help but snicker. I know this teasing is going to tick her off. Which is a score for me.
Ticked off Reese Mallory = accomplished Antoine.
"I don't want you," she spits the word, right in my face, as she grabs onto the collar of my shirt again, leaning up in my face. "calling me anything, got it? I don't want you to talk to me! So leave me alone, An-"
"You spit in my face," I tease in a quieter voice. No need to yell when she's this close. "And your breath smells like fish. Much like your p*ssy down there, I'm sure, too." I can help but let the smile slowly grow on my face.
"A-Antoine..." she says. Her face is red. She's mad. Good. Let her be mad. That makes things more interesting.
Before she can say any more, I smirk widely, saying, "Why don't we bring this outside, yeah? Kind of crowded in here."
She nods, her teeth clenched, and follows me outside. Despite her anger, she's walking behind me, at my ankles. She's hunched over behind me, pathetic.
Pathetic. Reese Mallory is pathetic.
Despite hating me so much, wanting nothing to do with me, she still ends up doing what I say.
It's because I'm strong and she's not. It's because I'm clever and she's slow. It's because I'm in charge. And she's not.
Because "You're pathetic," I say to her, once we're outside on the side of the school building, no one else around. We face each other. Her back is against the wall.
I have her cornered at the all because she's smaller. She's not as good as me, on so many levels.
Along with so many people, I'm better than the worst. I'm the best. But I'm better than the worst. And the worst is the best's target. She makes me feel so good, with her messed up, sensitive, weak life.
She makes me feel superior, like I am to her. I am better than Reese Mallory. At least I know that.
"Shut up, Antoine. You're wrong. You've always been so wrong."
"You wouldn't've cared so much all these years about every single thing I say about you if I wasn't at least a little right. You know you're pathetic. Your grades suck. You can't get a proper job. You aren't good at any sports. And the only friend you have is fair-weather. You hang onto being friends with her because she's all you've got, but you know you're lonely. You know no one is never gonna like you. You have one more year here, and it's not worth it to try to have fun, because soon you'll just be entering your miserable adulthood anyway. You're not college bound, you have no dreams, and you know your whole life will be spent working at some dingy fast food restaurant, living single in some tiny apartment away from all your problems back home, just to face the new problems in life. You weren't able to get any support in these years, so you won't in the future either. Because no one likes you. You're so pathetic. You're not worth helping. You're not worth caring about. So to simply say I'm wrong, even though your whole life proves me right, just shows how pathetic and stupid you really are, Reese Mallory." As I'm talking, I push her into the brick wall of the school even more, making her feel smaller and smaller. Scaring her unimportant self. I know I'm hurting her shoulder, leaning my weight on it against the wall. Good. I'm glad I am.
She was acting so brave before, but I just fished it out of her. I know her better than she knows herself. I know she's weak, despite striving to be strong. I know she's a nervous wreck, despite trying to be brave. I know she's lonely, despite trying to pretend it's okay.
I know I should feel sympathy for her. But I don't.
Instead, I'm happy that the tears in her eyes prove me right every single time.
She's nearly an adult, and she still can't deal with someone saying she's not going to make it far in life. That is just one thing that shows the truthiness of how pathetic she really is.
