I Should Hate You

Chapter One

Newt was sitting in math class, Mrs. Eigen rattling on and on in some foreign language that he could never hope to understand—Pre-Calculus. He shuddered to think of the horrors Calculus would bring. Looking down at his homework, marked with a big, fat C-, he could safely say math was not his strong suit.

He stayed in his seat, tapping his hand on his knee under the desk until he heard the bell ring. Newt rose from his seat, slightly limping to the door. His leg had never been the same after an accident the summer after eighth grade. Figures he met Thomas that year.

He used a wheelchair the first few months, but eventually, the limp became subtle and unnoticeable enough that he didn't need it anymore.

Newt strode to his locker. He saw Minho and—ugh—Thomas standing there. Unfortunately, he saw him often. He and Minho were friends, meaning Newt had to hang out with Thomas All. The. Time. If Minho weren't his best friend, he would have ditched him a long time ago. Of course, his limited amount of other friends contributed to that decision.

"Not nice to see you, Tommy," Newt said to Thomas.

"Not nice to you, too, Dickens." Thomas glared at him.

That was one of the many nicknames Thomas had given him over the years, inspired by when Newt made the terrible mistake of looking over a copy of Great Expectations in the library. Thomas had found him there and instantly thought that it was perfect for a dick like me to be reading books by someone named Dickens.

Minho rolled his eyes—his typical response to their daily spats. "Is it actually possible for you two to see each other and not act like a divorced couple?"

"No," they said simultaneously.

Minho rolled his eyes again. Newt swore that one day they would permanently get stuck like that.

"I gotta go meet my sister," Newt said, looking at Minho.

He gave a little wave as Newt walked away. Thomas didn't even spare him a glance.

Sonya was leaned back in her seat, her mac-and-cheese-golden hair flapping wildly from the wind that blasted in from the open window.

"How was your day?" Newt asked her.

"You sound like Mom," she complained.

"Mom is way higher pitched than me. I have a man's voice. Now, tell me, how was your day?"

Annoyed but lightened by her brother's comment, she told him, "I had a math test." She slouched in her seat and crossed her arms. "I got a B."

"You got a B? That's great!" he exclaimed. Then he frowned at her. "You're mad because you got a B?"

"Of course I'm mad!" Sonya burst out. "B is average. I need to be above average."

"Just don't beat yourself up about it."

"My teacher is the one I might be beating up," she muttered.

Newt laughed.

"Hey, guys." Newt's mom smiled at them. "How was your day?"

She was sitting down at the kitchen table, filling out paperwork.

Sonya glared at him as if to say see? then huffed. "I got a B on my math test."

"Really? Oh, I'm so proud of you, honey!" Their mom's brow furrowed. "Why are you upset about this?"

"Because I studied for like ten percent of my lifetime and only got a B!"

She sighed. "You really need to stop holding yourself to such a high standard, sweetheart."

Something flashed in Sonya's eyes, but she quickly shook it away and nodded, leaving.

Newt's mom turned to him. "And how are you?"

"Fine." He tossed his car keys on the table.

"Any school drama? You know how I love to stay in the loop." A sort of mischief sparkled in her eyes. The kind that only a once-gossip-loving-teenager could possess.

"No, mom," he groaned.

"Or any new arguments with that Tommy boy?" she went on. "He always comes up with the most clever comebacks."

"Hey!"

"And he seems really nice..."

"Not to me..."

"And charming..."

"That is the exact opposite of Tommy..."

"And he doesn't look too bad either," she finished.

I rolled my eyes, not caring that I probably looked like Minho.

Any compliments of Thomas always deserved a good eye-roll.