Brandon's pov
Human socialising? Human contact? What is that?
Nah, I'm not being dramatic or shit, I'm just making my point on how Anti social I am.
Wait, everyone somehow magically knows my name, so that couldn't be something Anti social... Perks of being an actor's son!
Well? It sucks, honestly.
It's too annoying when people dig your money, not you.
So I stopped socialising, because, meh. No one's gonna probably be there for me if I'm having a crisis.
Except for this fucking annoying jerk, Alex, who calls himself my friend.
"Why do you hate her so much?" the guy, asked me who just stood behind me in every chemistry practical class.
And I don't know what's it with him asking me questions about my 'feelings' for Lea Edwards.
Okay? She's a familiar face for me. She's extremely popular in this school. Okay, people might die for her?
What's that have to do with me?
Maybe I know her since my childhood, but there has never been a day that's gone by without glaring at each other.
I don't know why we do that. Maybe she's sworn to be my mortal enemy.
I don't even remember shit.
"Hate is a strong word." I stated. "I don't hate her, I just don't like her."
"Why is that?"
"Why are you asking me this?" I grumbled, rolling my eyes at him. He just chuckled nervously and fixed his glasses on his nose.
"Just getting to know a friend."
"Ehm. Please mind your fucking business."
"Okay."
I sighed.
"Pssst, she's coming."
I groaned, shooting him a glare.
"She's just a neighbor, get over it."
I watched as she pulled her bag off her shoulders and walked to the teacher. Because it was our first practical class this year, we had to ask our seating arrangement.
And when the teacher pointed the empty space which wasn't occupied right next to me, my eyes widened.
"That bitch isn't sitting with me." I frowned to myself.
She choked in front of the class, throwing a horrified expression towards me.
As if I was the one who was in fault.
I didn't even get the logic behind everyone talking about her perfectly curled hair and how she keeps rolling them in her fingers.
She's not even that pretty. She's just a person with a loads of make up- wait she doesn't wear makeup- I still don't care.
She cleared her throat when she finally walked and stood beside me, taking her time to disgustingly look at me.
I scoffed at her.
"Edwards, we meet again."
Really, I would say it was a pleasure, but I dont wanna lie.
"Walker." She nodded at me, rolling her golden-brown eyes.
Our professor explained us about the experiment we were gonna perform, giving a brief description and warning about the burner that was placed in front of us.
It looked like every table had only one burner.
Hell to the no, it's either she does the experiment or I'll do it. We aren't sharing shit for fucks sake.
Maybe it was better that I took the lead, I can't trust her.
We shared a quick glance, instantly knowing what the other is thinking about.
"I'll do the experiment." We said in unison and at that moment, we both reached out to grab the test tube.
"Give me the test tube." She demanded.
"No, you let go." I ordered, tightening my grip on the glass.
She pulled the test tube towards herself, and I wasn't just letting her take it.
There was a spark of thunder in between our bodies, both of us probably exceeding our limits in our rage just hoping that the other would give up.
But you see? Test tubes have to be handled carefully and as softly as possible. Or they might break, just like how it did, in our hands.
"What is going on over there!?" The professor yelled over the lab, and we almost shit our pants.
This still felt like we were in school, to be fair.
YOU ARE READING
Fight me
Short Story"Why do you always keep fighting with him?" "Because he looks hot when he gets worked up." ---- (ongoing) He was a raging beast. She was a mischievous hotshot of the college. He never bothered himself to acknowledge her. She never forgot to get on h...
