4bidden

2. Royal Pain

How long does it take to hate someone and validly say so without being criticized? Is there a logical explanation for why this seems to happen? Does it have something to do with the number of times you're near that person? What if you hate someone only because they have something you want? Sounds childish, right?

Picture this; you're a cute, little, fifth-grade nerd and The National Spelling Bee season is back. You study day and night, sweating and crying just to correct spelling words and critique your tone and manner. Finally, the big day arrives. Because you're amazing, you get down to the final two, but what do you know, you lose to a girl who didn't even want to be in the spelling bee in the first place and just wanted attention. Does she still have a right to claim her reward? Are you allowed to hate her?

Then again, what does hate even mean, and why specifically do teenagers decide to use the word so much? That and the word "like". Using the four-letter word "like" is so commonly used that we inherit it from one another, and maybe that's what's happening with the word "hate". I say there's a fine line between hate and love, but those two sides tend to mix and match on alternating days.

My conclusion is don't say words just because they're the in-trend. The word still has the same original meaning no matter how many times it's used. Hate is hate, and that's all there is to it. So trust me, when I say I hate Priscilla Flanagan, I mean I loathe her entire existence. And of course, when Whitney knocks on my bedroom door three hours after my argument with her son saying Priscilla's coming for dinner instead of going out with Paxson, my immediate response was to say, "Board up the house, lock your doors, and hide the children, the Ice Queen is coming!"

But of course, I'm a nice, rational person, so instead, I tell her, "Wow, sounds great." I need to stay on her good side, no matter how it tortures me.

One hour. I have one hour to gather my bearings and find peace this Saturday afternoon before her Royal Majesty enters the same space as me. So much for them going out together and me dodging that bullet. She's completely changed targets, and her venom is heading straight for my head! What the hell does Paxson see in her anyway?

"She's not my girlfriend." I can hear Paxson's clear voice set on convincing me of that appalling lie. He may not think they are together, but she thinks so, and that's what worries me. The sole fact is that she will do everything in her power to persuade Paxson that he too wants a relationship with her.

I guess I can't blame her for assuming he'll want to be with her, considering her physique. Priscilla is a 5'9 toothpick, strawberry blonde, pouty-lipped drama queen filled with cash, but what do I care? I'm not going to say the girl isn't smart, but I don't think she understands the function of her brain yet, which isn't so unfortunate these days. She has her looks, her charm, and a million little piggy banks stuffed with hundreds. It's obvious Ms. Money Bags is set for life. She has everything she could want in the world, yet she decides she wants one more thing to please her ego; Paxson.

I've only met the girl once, and boy was that more than enough! A week after I moved, Paxson and Priscilla went to the movies, and he introduced us in the most awkward way possible. It was so awkward that I swear it was planned!

"Priscilla, this is Prim. She's a great friend of mine, and just moved in with my family." Paxson opened his arms towards me as if it meant "Ta-da, this is my ex! She's not much, I know! Get a good look at this failure!"

I gave her one sweep of the eye, and instantly my nostrils flared. This girl was a Barbie doll! But not that super-thin doll that makes you wonder how many meals she skips a day. She's that super evened-out model type Barbie that usually has the swimsuit outfit right when you buy her fresh out of the box. Pure and classic, a beauty.