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You 'hate' them. ~Part 2~ (Mashton)

Michael:
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"Maybe you should come round sometime and I'll prove it." He laughed loudly. His laugh sent butterflies rushing through me. Every last time. It was a wonderful sound.
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I could feel myself blush at the offer. But that wasn't the only thing. I could feel someone watching us, it was making me more nervous than I already was. "Yeah, maybe." I smiled, shaking it off.
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"So, I'll see you around then, yeah?" He smiled, leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on my cheek. Oh. My. God.
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I nodded, trying to re-compose myself. "Y-Yeah." I stuttered before smiling warmly. "See you around, Tom."
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I begin to shut my locker, lost in a dream as the door snaps shut for me.
I lept out out of my skin in shock, my breath hitching in my throat a little. Because, right before me stood Michael Clifford, the school bully, staring down at me.
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"Stop drooling, (Y/N). It's not a good look." He sneered. I turned to leave but he was fast, and swiftly came in front of my path, blocking it. His annoying smirk larger than ever.
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I sighed, exasperated, and searching for the nearest escape route. Of course he would be the one to ruin my good mood. "Please, Michael. Can we just have one day where you don't mock me?"
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He snorted, not my desired reaction at all. "What, because you're all away with the fairies because of, Tom?" I clamped my upper teeth onto my lower lip to attempt to fight the blush, that would certainly give me away.
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"Please. Do you really think a guy like him would go for you?"
No.
Of course I didn't. I didn't understand it at all.
"He's popular. He's funny. He could get any girl he wanted. It's probably just a bet, or maybe he's really desperate for a good fuck." He shrugged bluntly.
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I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. Tell him how he called you beautiful yesterday. Tell him how he almost invited you round only moments ago. But Michael, only carried on.
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"I mean, you aren't even a hot freak. You're just a freak. A fat, annoying freak who-"
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And suddenly, it all became too much.
I couldn't stop crying. Big, ugly tears drenching my face. I took my chance and ran. Ran away from him and the truth in which he was speaking. I ran all the way into the nearest janitors closet, not bothering to switch the lights on. Just sitting in the corner, hugging my knees with force.
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A few moments later there was a knock at the door. At first I panicked, fearing that it was the janitor coming to yell at me, but then the unexpected happened. Michael Clifford, strode in. Except, he didn't look like Michael Clifford at all, he looked ashamed, and maybe even sorry. This had certainly never happened before.
Not to me, not to anyone.
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"(Y/N) . . ." He mumbled, taking a step closer, causing me to scoot further away. I couldn't meet his eyes. He sighed and, before I could react, came by my side and heaved me up by my wrists. Green. His eyes were green. They were very green actually.
Huh. I'd never noticed that before.
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I tried to tug my hands back to my side, but he kept a firm grip. "Please don't look so scared of me." He mumbled.
"I never meant to hurt you."
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I stared at him. I stared harder.
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"I didn't!" He exclaimed. "I was just angry, I mean, the way you were looking at Tom, you'd never look at me like that. Not in a million years."
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He released one of my hands and wiped my damp cheeks.
"But, you always say nasty things to me, and try to hurt me. I don't understand, I thought-"
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"Yeah, well. You thought wrong." He looked at the ground, gaining some courage before looking back up.
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I peered at him, not seeing his point at all. If I was wrong about him hating me, then what did he feel? Why was he so nasty?
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"(Y/N), I treat you the way I do because I don't know how to tell you how I really feel." He mumbled, one hand still warm and clasping my wrist. My stomach twisted uncomfortably as he always made me so nervous.
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"I'm sorry I said those things to you. None of it was true. You're beautiful."
I snorted. Yeah right. He just feels bad because I cried.
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"No, you are. You're so beautiful.
And I was jealous. Jealous of Tom, jealous of the way you seemed to feel about anyone but me. Why can't you see what I really feel for you?"
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I shook my head, still not seeing it.
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He sighed, running a nervous hand through his jet black hair. He dyed it often, now that, I had noticed. That, I had been intrigued by.
He groaned at the way I wasn't catching on. "Dammit, (Y/N)! I'm in love with you, okay?"
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Ashton:
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"Which means, (Y/N), you'll be partnered with Ashton."
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What?!
No. Absolutely no way. This was a joke. It had to be. There was no way in hell that he would ever be my partner. How would I do that, when I vowed that I'd never talk to him again?
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I made the mistake of looking over, to see the light brown haired boy give me a pitiful smile. I grimaced, looking back down at my desk. There was just no way.
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~That lunch~
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Someone cleared their throat behind me and as soon as I saw who it was, I instantly regretted rejecting (Y/F/N)'s offer to join me in the quiet library. I had come here to think. To be alone. I didn't want to see anyone, especially him.
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Especially since this feeling that won't shake, this harsh, titanium anchor that had clasped its way around my throat, was down to him.
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"Er, hey, (Y/N)." He spoke slowly and awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck the entire time.
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I glared at him as a way of regarding him. He knew my feelings. I knew his.
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He nodded and looked up to the ceiling, exasperated that I was being so difficult. Like this was my fault. I don't think he intended for me to see. I didn't respond.
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"I'm sorry, I just saw you come up here and- yeah. Anyway, that doesn't matter. I think we should talk. You know about the project?" He asked hopefully, helping himself to the seat next to me. I shuffled away without a second thought. Hating him certainly wasn't in my nature, but I didn't have to force it anymore.
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I swallowed hard. How were we going to do this? I couldn't be near him. I couldn't let him hurt me. Not again. Not when I'd finally stopped missing him so damn much.
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My stubbornness made him think of a new approach. "Look, (Y/N). I really need this grade, and we won't get it unless you can just be civil. I know what I did was wrong-"
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"Wrong?" I interrupted. Now he was in for it. Finally, I was about to offload what he'd done.
"You left me! We'd been best friends for nine years, and you left me because I wasn't popular enough! You just completely cut me off without even saying goodbye, or telling me why."
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His guilty face only got guiltier as I spoke. He knew he'd hurt me deeply. That was clear. "Fine." He mumbled after a while. I stared at him. Fine? Seriously? What about this even related to that word?
"You want the truth? You want to know why? I'll tell you. I mean what have I got to loose? You already hate me the way it is."
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"I know the truth." I said, waving him off. "I wasn't cool enough, I get it." He shook his head, but I continued anyway. "Just go back to your new-"
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"I was in love with you okay?!" He raised his voice drastically. The old librarian told him to hush. He blushed, I sat up straighter, my mouth agape.
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". . . What?" I whispered, hoarsely.
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He sighed heavily, leaning back against the book case. "You heard me, (Y/N). At first they were just small feelings, I thought I could control them, but they grew so fast and I was in so deep.
I thought if I distanced myself from you, then I wouldn't fuck everything up, but then it only hurt more and it got to the point where I couldn't even look at you. I wanted to explain, to apologise, but by that point, you hated my guts."
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I stared at the nervous boy before me. I stared at him for being not only the nervous, but oblivious idiot that he was. He couldn't meet my eyes and I was too stunned to say anything. Instead I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips against his. He didn't move for a moment, he too in shock, but when he did, we were in sync, and all my hurt melted into happiness.
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"Trust me." I whispered, pulling away. "You wouldn't have ruined a thing."