𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 ‧ 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤

I Hate You

Y/n's POV

How would it be the perfect couple for you? Physically, that's up to you, but what about the rest? I think most people would think of someone who's athletic, hard-worker, kind, intelligent, funny.
Some people think of their celebrity crushes like Winona Ryder or Keanu Reeves, but not me. I have the good luck of having my crush in the same class.

Now, everyone has a different concept of perfection, it can be a person, a place, a moment, a song, a tv show, anything.
Mine has a name, Maxine "Max" Mayfield.

God, I hate her.

She's so fucking perfect. Many of the boys I know let roll their spit every time they see her.
Is it because of her ginger hair? Okay, Annie the Orphan.

I don't understand why I hate her so much.
Maybe because how her Colgate smile makes my legs tremble, it can also be how her jokes —even the ones that wouldn't make laugh a normal person— make me twist like an epileptic leech.

I hate the way she looks at me when we work together in class, I can't concentrate. I can't focus on the works when I'm having Max within inches from me while she stares at me in detail, I think that's why I failed biology.
Great, one more reason to hate her even more.

Could it be that I can't stand her because she's so... I don't know, HER?
She's independent, she doesn't need me when she has herself. She's too bull-headed, and I am too, so two of our type wouldn't work. 

Max is caring and after all the falls from her skateboard she has gained experience for healing, and more.
I remember when John Snyder drowned in a lake during a school trip. Of course Max had to pull out her lifeguard skills and gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Two hours later Max and John were making out, you could say his tongue touched Max's esophagus.
What a hero she is, making sure he continues to receive CPR.

And not to mention her physical beauty, pfft. Her eyes, for example, nothing special. Blue eyes and that's all, it was not as if every time the sun reflected on them you could be mesmerized by their purity.
I won't make a comparison between the color of her eyes with the sky to say that every time I look at them, I feel like I'm floating in love, or that thinking of them provokes me sleepless nights. I would never admit that.
Because what takes my sleep away are those nights in which half of the world belongs to us for a few hours, when we have talks as deep as the Mariana Trench. You can start talking about how your day was and end up talking about what Area 51 hides.
One day we talked about how we are in alternate universes. I never admitted this, but while she was talking about the Max of the parallel world being a celebrity who had just won an Oscar, I imagined my other version being her wife, walking hand to hand in the red carpet and smiling at the cameras showing my unconditional support to her dream of being an actress.
But in that universe according to her, she was married to Rob Lowe. Goddamn Mayfield.

I used to love color yellow; the walls of my room burst in that tone matching the sunflowers I had on the window. Yellow my ukulele as well as my favorite dress.
But since she said lilac suited me perfect, yellow no longer stood out to me. Now my favorite flowers are purple lilacs, I dyed some strands of my hair and made a color change to my room. I despise her for making me change my mind so easily.

But what drives me crazy is that she makes me feel cockroaches in my stomach. Not butterflies, that's so cliché. And cockroaches are horrible, as well as the tickles that I feel inside me every time I think of her.

At first, I thought it was a stomach problem, I drunk Pepto-Bismol and went to the doctor waiting for him to tell me I had gastritis or something similar, but it was nothing...

I cried for almost a week when I realized why I felt that.
I didn't want to feel it, I wasn't ready.

Anyway. What I hate most about her is the fact she effortlessly managed to make me fall deeply for her.

Fuck you Max.

I love you, and I hate you for that.