#1 Falling for the guy that hates me

6- Hate is a strong word. Try Love.

I shifted my body position with my laptop on my lap, warming the top I was wearing. I was on Google, I was bored really bored. So bored that I actually searched this. I clicked enter on Google and waited for my results to show.

Hate-

verb (used with object), hat·ed, hat·ing.
1.
to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest: to hate the enemy; to hate bigotry.
2.
to be unwilling; dislike: I hate to do it.
verb (used without object), hat·ed, hat·ing.
3.
to feel intense dislike, or extreme aversion or hostility.

noun
4.
intense dislike; extreme aversion or hostility.
5.
the object of extreme aversion or hostility.

All 5 examples explain exactly how I feel for Ryan in a way. Ryan is an object to me, he is no longer worth a human to me. He is an 'it' or 'that' or 'thing I hate'.

Yes I actually goggled the word 'hate'. I am just so full of hatred. I had to make sure it was actually hatred and not some sort of symptom for murder. I hate the boy, I’m not going to kill him.

Chris I’m just pissed off and hurt by him, but Ryan I hate him. I'm not just talking the kind of hate where allot if guys 'Hate Justin Bieber'. I mean the kind of hate like how Romeo and Juliet's families hated each other.

I groaned in frustration, I groaned random words expressing my hatred and I jumped around my room, from my bed to the floor and back. If I groaned real words well... All you would here is certain names and the sound of my bed thumping and me yelling or groaning names and random words out of pure frustration.

Yeh....That would not go down well.

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We had got to the bus stop and I had realised that I didn't have any money or my oyster card. Katie had asked if she should lend me the money, I felt bad enough that she was waisting her time on me, so she texted Chris to come and give me the money. Luckily Chris was on his phone at the time, so he replied straight away.

Chris already had my oyster on him, for me to get home. I didn't even bother ask how they had even gotten me here in the first place, the bus driver would suspect something if to evil looking teenage boys carried an lifeless body on the bus, to a far away location.

Okay not that far away, three train stations away from us to be exact.

I had gotten the bus myself home, it was about 6:04 by the time I got home, I got home just before dad and mum, saving the explanation of why I looked like this. I just told them that I didn't feel like partying. If it weren't for Katie I wouldn't know what to say as an excuse.

I was mad at Chris, don't get me wrong, but telling our parents, that would be too cruel to him.