Maybe I'm the One You Like

“How was dinner last night?” Jack asked as I picked him up for school the next morning. He buckled his seatbelt and turned the radio down as I rolled my eyes.

“Bro, don’t even get me started,” I grumbled.

Jack laughed and tossed his backpack in the back seat. “At least you go to spend the night with the hot new girl.”

“Megan was busy?”

“Yeah,” Jack sighed. “So what’s she like?”

I rolled my eyes again and sighed. “Her name is Peyton and she is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met.”

I ignored the look Jack gave me as I focused on the road, knowing that if I so much as glanced at him I would be receiving a look of sheet disappointment. “I thought you liked bitches,” he said after a short pause.

“I’m more into sluts,” I corrected him. “There is a distinct difference.”

“Ew,” Jack scoffed as he fiddled with the window, rolling it up and down repeatedly. “So you wouldn’t classify this girl as a slut. And she’s not falling all over you, I like her already. You gonna try and go for her, or what?”

“Man, I want to,” I sighed. “She’s just such a bitch though, it probably won’t happen.”

--

“Good morning, Peyton,” I mumbled as I entered the math room and took my seat next to her. Peyton’s face turned bright red and she glared.

“Hi, Alex,” she said through her teeth, immediately beginning to rummage through her backpack as if the answer to life or something was waiting for her at the bottom. Her dark brown hair fell into her face, blocking my view of those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to be glaring at me. She was trying to act tough and indifferent, but she couldn’t take back what she’d said about finding me hot last night.

“How’s my favorite neighbor?” I smirked. “You were quiet at dinner last night. What’s up with that?”

“Shut up,” she glared.

--

Peyton’s point of view

I cringed when Alex sat down next to me. I hated that boy. I hated him with every fiber of my body. He was the most obnoxious, self-centered, conceited boy I have ever met, not to mention a whore who wanted to talk to me for one reason, and wasn’t even subtle about it. It was bad enough that I had to sit next to him first period, that early in the morning, but now that I lived next to him, there seemed to be no escape. I loathed my parents for moving us here. I knew it wasn’t their fault, that it was because of my dad’s job, but that didn’t make Alex disappear. I just wanted him out of my life.

I was relieved when class started, the teacher would hopefully prevent him from harassing me. I looked up only to see Alex facing me, staring like he’d never seen a girl before. I hastily pulled up my shirt, which I’m sure had been the point of interest, and he snorted.

“Oh don’t think I’ve never seen what’s under there,” he muttered seductively. I groaned and tried to move my chair away, but he simply scooted closer to me and smirked. I cursed internally as I felt my face flush and instinctively sucked in a bit.

“Back off,” I muttered, sending him what I hoped was a death glare. Apparently my expression was humorous, because Alex simply laughed, reached over, and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Hmm, you seem pissed today. What, no time for breakfast today? No time for pancakes?”

“Shut UP,” I yelled in his face, causing him to jump. His eyes widened and I cursed myself when I realized that now the whole class was staring at me. But he had gone too far, and he didn’t even know it.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Arnette?” our math teacher asked, and I shook my head and stared down at my blank notebook. She continued on with her lesson and I put my head down, sighing in relief when I heard Alex finally move his chair away.

--

Alex’s point of view

The rest of class I stayed away from Peyton and her pissy mood, and this time I wasn’t going to apologize either. Why should I? She had screamed at me and humiliated me. No, this time I would simply get back at her. And I knew exactly what to do. I had figured out what made her tick. Was I an asshole for doing it? Probably. But she hadn’t been very nice either.

I waited in my driveway after school for the bus to drop Peyton off. Once it did I trotted across the yard and cut her off on her path toward her house. “Hiya Peyt!” I said cheerfully, blocking her way to the front door.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Did you have lunch today?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And? And what?” she said irritably. She tried to look over my shoulder for an escape, but her short stature prevented her from seeing anything behind me.

“Was it enough food? I mean, I know you were cranky this morning from missing all that good food, I’m assuming you made up for it.”

“Stop it!” she screeched. I grinned.

“Obviously it wasn’t enough, sugar.”

Peyton stood there glaring at me for a moment, arms crossed tightly over her chest, and I was satisfied. Good. Now she knew how it felt, and I was back on top. We were even.

Until I noticed that she had started to cry.

A tear slid down her cheek and she stood there sniffling in front of me, instantly making me feel like a terrible person. Never in my life had a made anyone cry, a girl, nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you,” she muttered, her voice trembling. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Uh, um, I’m sorry, I-”

Peyton pushed past me and ran up the steps to her house. I stood in her driveway and watched as she slammed the door shut, then turned and walked back to my house. That was probably one of the dumbest things I’d ever done.

Notes

Anyone catch the artist the chapters are named from?