Enemies with Benefits

Chapter Two

So this is the second chapter! I'm super excited about it. Its taken me a while to write because I've been so dang busy! Hopefully you all enjoy!

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Clowns. Bratty kids. Mushrooms. Snoops. Tattle-tales. Mustard. Golf. These are just a few of the things I hate. But there is one thing. One thing that, I swear, made me shudder at the thought. Something that was like a mixture of said things above. And believe me, the hatred was definitely reciprocated. One thing, that my hatred for will never falter.  Two words.

    Spencer Katz .

    Shudder.

    Our rivalry started some time in kindergarten. I'll admit this first: we were kind of a couple in the beginning. You know, the Little Rascals-esque love. Being, like, six years old and saying you're in love isn't exactly actual love. But, back in the ole' days, it was. During snack time, he came up to me and asked if I wanted his double-chocolate-chip cookie, because I was pretty. Seriously. His exact words were, I still remember, "This one has extra-extra chocolate. You can have it because you're pretty." It was, like, my entire universe had just erupted into an rainbow of euphoria  and life made sense. I asked him to be my boyfriend and he accepted, and everyday for a week he told me that I was his everything. How a barely- six-year-old boy came up with that, I still don't know, but I think he said something about his dad saying that to him mother, so  he decided that he would say it, too. Naturally, though, after seven days of pure bliss, he totally embarrassed me. He said that I looked stupid in my pigtails, and that I am a bad girlfriend. We "broke up" that day.

       In the fifth grade, I thought that our hating-each-other was pretty lame, since we'd been enemies for about four years, so I went up to  him in recess and told him exactly that. He then laughed and said that my hair was still stupid.

     We'd been hardcore enemies since then.

     Over the years we'd pranked, humiliated, and messed with each other every chance we got. It wasn't the play hate. It was shake-you-to-the-bone hatred that just . . . was natural, I guess. It was like our entire point in life was to absolutely despise one another with every ounce of strength we had. Everyone knew about our rivalry. Kids at school knew about it. Hell, even teachers knew about it. They didn't bother to pair us up for some assignment, since one of us would kill each other sooner or later. In fact, my sixth-grade science teacher, Mr. Maurre, he made sure that we were seated at opposite sides of the room. Spencer and I's hate was like death. You knew it was there, and you tried to avoid  it at all costs. One wrong move and suddenly it's like the world just exploded.

       One time, during lunch the first day of eighth grade, Spencer was being especially terrible. When I made a comment about his hair, which used to be shaggy, he said I was just being sour 'cause I was on my period. In front of EVERYONE IN THE CAFETERIA . He knew he'd crossed a line, since not many girls like having their period pointed out, but he'd just smirked and went on with his friends. And since he did that, I left the lunch table when my friends said something about him. I don't know what it was, since I was off in my own world, but I heard "Spencer" and then just shot up and left. I was fuming for a couple of days, (people--meaning him and his friends--said things like, "Is that a red spot?" and "I take it Aunt Flow came for a visit?" Things like that), so my best friend, Eden, decided that she had a little plan. I could take all the credit, if I wanted, and when she told me her idea I almost passed out. It was perfect.

         The next day, Spencer's locker was filled with tampons.

         God bless Eden