Freddy's POV. Here's a scenario. You really hate someone, and you love you annoy them because of the reactions you get. But what happens when you don't get those reactions anymore? And when you don't hate them anymore...
It all started in the second grade, when she first moved here. I knew, just by looking at her, that she would the greatest person to annoy. She seemed so sure of herself, so proud. I longed to disrupt her air of casual intelligence and . . . Teacher's pet-ness.
Turns out I was right. She responded to my taunting with the greatest comebacks, and when I threw any particularly nasty insult at her, she would run, crying, to the teacher. She was my favourite victim. I would spend hours at night before I went to sleep thinking up things to call her. Some of them worked. I should say most of them. There were a few she could laugh off, but most of them she had to try and beat with her own insults. I must admit, she almost did. With her vocabulary being much larger than mine, she was sent to the office a few times for saying things so intellectual that I couldn't understand them, but were definitely very rude. I learned from her. I would memorize what she said and look them up in the dictionary. Then I would pair them with my own words, enhancing her own insults.
I can only assume she did the same.
From the second grade to the eighth, that's how it was. I would insult her, she would insult me, I would memorise hers, throw them back at her. . . it was a never-ending cycle of hatred, and in the end, I felt myself both loving her and hating her.
The Dewey came along, and with him, the SoR. And we each got our own nicknames. Mine wasn't so bad. Spazzy McGee. It had a nice ring to it. But hers . . . It gave me more reasons to insult her, more ways to annoy her. I know I shouldn't have. I know I shouldn't. As it is, even in 11th grade, the SoR is still going, and she is still a major part of it. We wouldn't get any gigs if it weren't for her.
But something terrible is happening. I'm losing her. Some new kid, Jimmy, has come along. He's Asst. Manager of the SoR, and she spends lots of time with him. Lots of time. And she doesn't respond when I taunt her. She just laughs it off, says "Yeah, ok Jones."
It shouldn't be getting to me. It shouldn't. All I know is that when I see her, laughing and chatting with him in the halls, I just want to deck him. Hard. Slam him against the lockers until he realizes who he's messing with. It's insane. The biggest question is: Why?
I don't know. I don't care. I guess I just don't hate her anymore. But I can't like her! Not me! Not her! That would just be wrong!
I can't like Summer Hathaway.
