Hate That I Love You || L.P

H.T.I.L.Y

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{ one }
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Never judge a book by it's cover. That's what Harry always tells me and I listen to him. Except when it comes to jocks and bad boys. I mean, they're clearly all the same. Mean, stupid, big and strong. Wears whatever clothes that gets them into trouble, bullies others and messes with the feelings of us girls or sometimes boys if they're gay or bisexual. It's quite obvious. So I don't spare them a second of my time. No way am I doing that. Hell, the entire hockey team has it out for me at my school.

How childish.

Harry and I were at a grocery store when it happened. When all of the shit began.

"I want the cheesy ones." I announced with a firm head nod after staring at three different cans of ravioli for about 15 minutes. It was either the cheesy ones, the beef or the sausage.

Harry rolled his emerald green orbs and chuckled, "You always pick the cheesy ones." he replied, putting two boxes of cheesy raviolis into the trolly. That's what English people call shopping carts here in England. It took me awhile to get used to the change after Harry adopted me but he was a big help on that. I grinned sheepishly, "Maybe I would've chosen the beef one, Harry."

"And it took you 15 minutes to make that kind of decision?"

"Yep." I answered, popping the "p" at the end.

Harry and I shared a laugh before continuing our shopping. He adopted me when I was 9 and I was very distant from him. At the time he was just turning 19. It took him a lot to keep me, a lot of important people never believed he could take care of me. In fact, the only reason he won was because he was the youngest rich and hardworking man in the UK. His company started when he was 12. He invented car batteries that were better than any other. His parents helped him with the company at that age and he's grown richer and more mature each and every year after that. Then he adopted me.

My past isn't dark and sad. Not really. You see, I'm an orphan because my parents lost me to the authorities. They weren't fit enough to rake care of me. I felt their pain when those men took me away but I never really knew them to care all too much. Again, I was 9 and they basically neglected me. Harry wanted an American baby girl because he loved the accent so much and girls were "easier to handle" for him, as he'd always say. He, for some reason, took a liking to me and adopted me. Bringing me back to London.

That's our story.

The best part of being adopted by him was going grocery shopping. We shared so many laughs and I still love it till this day.

Harry had told me to head to the peanut butter isle and choose one of many kinds of peanut butter so I did exactly that.

Harry only sent me so he could get the healthy foods that I hated. Now, I eat healthy food but not cauliflower or beats. Hell no. Corn and broccoli would do just fine. So I went to the isle and was looking for a good kind of peanut butter for a good 5 minutes before I was hit in the side with a cart.

I fell to the ground and whimpered in pain. For fucks sake. When I saw who did it, my eyes widened.

The hockey team captain from my school. Him and his bitch of a girlfriend were smirking down at me.

"Fuck you." I spat, my side hurting. Like really bad.

Now I'm sensitive to pain and being bullied so I really just wanted Harry. I was on the verge of tears at this point.