The embodiments of love and hate

Addison

He strolled down the hallway, fellow students seemed to kiss the ground that he walked on, boosting his mega ego.

If you couldn't tell my the cocky stance and lazy grin, the pricey shoes and leather jacket, the girls that hung off his arm and giggled softly in his ear, then you could tell by the way the crowd parted and the looks he was given.

It wasn't hard to figure who had been crowned king at this school.

Addison scowled and slammed her locker, the bang causing other students to temporarily tear their eyes away from him, a deathly glare sent her way. But even the shout of a bomb could not win the interest of her classmates when it came to Benjamin Slayter.

Yet not even with a bomb strapped to her chest, would they spare more than a glance when it came to Addison Song.

That was one of the a thousand of reasons Addison Song hated Benjamin Slayter.

Addison saw the flicker in his eye as he looked across his admirers, she saw how the smile failed to reach his eyes. She saw what no one else did. Regardless of details, Addison knew one thing for certain:

Benjamin was a fake.

Most people only saw him when he started hanging around the 'cool kids', when he started following the latest trends and using the latest slang.

But Addison remembered him before that.

She remembers the timid transfer student with a stuffed dog in middle school. She remembers the little boy by himself on the swings. She remembers seeing his first crush reject him in front of all her friends. And she remembers the stuttering boy that asked to borrow her pen.

What happened?

For starters, he never gave the pen back. Then he stated to change. Gone were his taped-up glasses, replaced with invisible contact lenses. Gone was Dennis the dog, replaced with a sliver dog tag. Gone was the adorable Benjamin, replaced with a version that Addison despised.

At first she thought it a phase, he would spent a month with one personality and style, then the next month try another. It didn't make sense to Addison, especially not when he stuck with being the popular jerk identity.

He had chosen it because of the girls that praised him, she was sure. One smile and girls swooned, one look and they would light up like a Christmas tree. One hug and they would practically combust. He had access to almost the whole female population of the school.

Yet he chose none of them.

Addison viewed him as a tease; seeing how many girls he could string along before sending them away. No one had seen him kiss a girl, or heard him boast of who he slept with, leading the giddy school girls all to try and be the first.

His eyes found hers, something sparking in them. Malice? Disgust? A sick twisted version of joy? She didn't want to wait to find out. She never wanted to wait to find out what torture he could throw her way if she stuck around.

Somehow, somewhere in that almost non existent brain of his, he had decided Addison would be his favourite bullseye. He would find her, no matter where she was, mocking her desire to succeed and poking fun at her every move.

She was sure he was a sadist.

Whenever he spoke to her she found a way to escape hastily, not staying longer than the first sentence. She didn't want to hear the long list of insults he kept hidden away for her, no matter how much he trailed after her retreating figure, her name slipping from his lying lips.

She quickly stalked away from him, passing the cafeteria on her way to class.

Did you know he called her a fry last week? A soggy, greasy French fry! She couldn't believe it, stomping away before she could say her hair made him think of burnt spaghetti.

The door to the English classroom swung open, slamming against the wall. Addison hated how much he got under her skin, even the thought of him made her want to break doors away from hinges. She dropped into her seat at the exact moment the door swung open again.

Behind it revealed the very person that fueled her frustration. His breathing heavy and keeling over slightly, cheeks puffed out and flushed, large brown eyes searching... searching.... bingo.

They landed on Addison. They always did.

Looks like he wanted to wedge in some degrading poems he had written for her before class. Too bad he missed her. Again.

Her fists curled as he dropped on the desk neighbouring hers, pencil case noisily dumped on top.

The teacher lazily clapped two hairy hands together "Today you will spend the class writing a letter to someone you have strong feelings about. It can be love or hate, but you have to write it to a real person. If you don't have a social life, then write to your mum. And if you don't have a mum... well, I'm sure you'll figure your life out someday." He yawned, returning to tapping his phone.

English used to be her favourite subject. Before High school assigned her incapable teachers and unrealistic deadlines. Before she shared the class with him.

A quick glance his way and an idea had already fromed.

Her cursive fluidly flowed from her favourite purple pen to the thin paper. She threw glances at her subject, and disturbingly found Benjamin's eyes already on her.

Addison was surprised that he looked deep in thought, the scribbles on his page indicating something actually happening in the rotting brain of his.

A rare sight indeed.

Addison often found him looking her way, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. It's like he couldn't even comprehend how it felt to get straight A's.

She was on a roll and just fifteen minutes later, every bit of negative emotion that she could shove into words was stuffed on letter addressed to the boy beside her.

Speaking of which, she noticed how he, also seemed almost done, a small smile stuck on his lips as he wrote down his thoughts. 

He's definitely writing to his mom she sniggered to herself.

But when his caramel eye landed on her, bold and intense... She suddenly wasn't so certain.