Hate Me Love Me

7| Hit Me 🎯

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

"The worst distance between two people is misunderstanding." --- Neetesh Dixit.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

Behold...

Breaktime.

The whole morning I had butterflies in my stomach from what Alaric had said last night. He wasn't in any of my classes this morning, and I plan on avoiding him, so I walk to the library.

I'm passing the grounds towards the library building when somebody grabs my bag and yanks it off my shoulder.

'Hey! Y-' I begin, but when I turn around and see Alaric, I stop.

He has a mischievous smirk on his face and excitement glints in his eyes like a gem.

Without a word, he starts walking away with my bag.

And so, the internal debate begins:

To follow, or not to follow?

My bag has my money and laptop and books in it. I have to follow.

'Hey! Give that back! Oye! Can't you hear me! Are you deaf! This is called theft! You can't take my stuff without asking! Oye!' I shout at him the whole way and the feeling of dread seeps in when he enters the cafeteria. I hesitate before following him in, and follow him to the centre table where Vincent and Sebastian are sitting next to a couple of extremely pretty girls.

As usual, however, as soon as Alaric Aldrois is in the picture, everyone's focus is on him. People watch with mild interest as he throws my bag on the floor next to his table, and his friends watch him with knowing smiles.

'You idiot! My laptop's in there!' I shout at him in rage, palm itching to slap him.

He turns to look at me, mirroring my fury more expertly on his handsome, made-to-be-sculpted face.

I'm pretty sure everyone in the vicinity is watching, abandoning their lunch.

'Do you all know who this girl is?' Alaric asks his large audience. Unlike a normal person, he doesn't have to ask for everyone's attention. He knows he has it the moment he enters any place, ever.

A few people snicker, but I glare at him with my hands in fists and a hot-with-rage face.

Alaric walks closer to me, making everybody aware that the girl he's talking about is me.

This is it. This is the moment he was talking about. He wants to see me cry, but Alaric darling, you'll be disappointed today.

'You all would know her as scholarship girl, and that's all you need to know her as anyways,' he says it as if I'm the only girl with a scholarship here. 'And, for your own safety, stay away from her. You obviously don't want to be friends with someone like her.'

Say something, I think.

Tell him who's boss, I think.

Stand up for yourself, I think.

But stay silent, is what I do.

Because I'm afraid that if I open my mouth to speak, all that'll come out is an ear-piercing scream.

So I stay silent.

'She doesn't belong here. We're rich, she's not. We're special, she's not. My family owns this school, this town, and this city. And many more cities. She has the amount of importance of a trashcan,' he turns away from my fuming red-as-my-hair face, and looks around the cafeteria with a wide smirk.

'And what, ladies and gentlemen, do we do with trashcans?' as he says this, he, Vincent and Sebastian move away, leaving me in the middle of the room, and before I can comprehend what's happening, food starts flinging across the room at me.

Actual food.

And scraps.

Clementine and Quentin walk over with trays full of scraps that the jocks gave them, and they throw it at my back, cackling like witches.

I can't drag my eyes away from the satisfied grin on Alaric's face.

But I'm furious.

Livid.

And when I'm extremely angry, I do things I know I'll regret.

I know I'm going to regret not running away. I'm going to regret not turning around and walking out of the cafeteria with the shame. I'm going to regret ignoring the look on Jaydens face as he gestures to the door.

I'm going to regret what I'm about to do.

But it's the triumphant look on Alarics face that sets me off.

I'd do anything to rip that smirk off his perfectly pristine face. Especially when it has to do with my discomfort.

So, keeping my eyes connected with his, I walk closer to his now-empty table in the center of the room, not even wincing every time I get hit.

I smile at the confused look on Alaric's face as I step up on the chair and onto the top of the table in clear sight and aim of everybody.

And I spread my arms out wide, head held high at the snarl on Alaric's face, and close my eyes. I feel something icky splat onto my glasses, and things in my hair. My legs are sticky and saucy. Food and scraps cling to my uniform like a lifeline, but I don't budge.

I don't move.

I don't know when everybody leaves after the bell, but I'm the last one in the room, and when I open my eyes, I'm alone.

I'm camouflaged. I'm a part of the horrible mess in the room, because I am a mess in the room.

But I'm satisfied.

Alaric Aldrois wanted to see me cry.

Hah.

Not today, rich boy.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

AN: Guys... I think I'm kind of in love with Valerie.