Contradictions

1

I love how she has a strong, unfailing will. I hate how she uses it against me. She may have snatched away that blanket, but hearing her sharp-witted tongue and seeing those beautiful, but stern eyes for the first time was definitely worth the cost of that 'ratty old thing'. If I had been born with a different personality, really any other than my own, I would've immediately jumped to obey her. But I have will, too. Hence, my defiance toward her.

2

I love how she carries herself. I hate how this conceit pushes her to find my every flaw. First with that blanket, now with my mistake of attempting vanity, -and attacking conformity- here. My embarrassment, in that moment of all of my accessories spilling out right in front of her was much greater than it should have been. She was so close to my face, too, with her eyes piercing into mine.

3

I love how she works me hard. I hate how I am speaking of military obstacle courses. Struggling to get even as far as the wall would have been a lot to ask of me, if it hadn't been her asking. Some part of me was yielding. But scaling down the annoying wall? I just couldn't do it. At that moment, I felt as if I couldn't have made myself look any weaker. So I did all that I could think of: talk. It didn't work like I had imagined. (I was actually hoping that she'd have to come up and save me. That fact will remain in my privy.) Though, her allowing me to be near one of her closer friends had to mean something.

4

I love how she can be beautiful, no, breath-taking if she wants. I hate how even with dirt smeared all over, I still find her stunning. Honestly, my intention was not to make further a fool of myself in front of her. She had already learned I despised heights that day, why also that I am a completely and utterly uncoordinated? Tumbling down that hill, crashing through the prom whilst parting a sea of people, I knew at some point I would have to collide with something or someone... and that someone had to be her. I don't feel guilty of the fact that I embarrassed her, she can handle that, just the thought that now she'll hate me more. But even among all of those emotions, the strongest was the fact that I was so close to her, in our accidental embrace. My heart, for unknown reasons, beat much too fast for the situation.

5

I love how she makes me feel as if we are the only two in the room. I hate how she uses this power to intimidate me. Let's go back to that blanket. It's not like I had any true attachment to it. It was just my statement of nonconformity. The blanket also helped me feel safe. And when she ripped it, I felt as if she was ripping my heart, too. With her cold eyes tearing through mine, her firm hands shredding the stupid blanket, and as she shoved the remains into my arms, her last words made me feel smaller than small. "Sweet dreams, maggot." Those actions proved that she hated me. That was too much bear.

6

I love how she gets frustrated and screams. I hate how I couldn't help but induce such anger and screaming. Paint was the perfect type of revenge and again, I'd say it was fair payback for cracking my heart. Though, being able to see her in such a vulnerable of sleep made me almost discard the plan, but of course, I do not falter on decisions of action. The results were quite grand, really: being court-marshaled and sentenced to the drill team's dirty work. Drill team meant more time spent near her. Funny how ironic the world can be, and in my favor.

7

I love how she inspires me. I hate how she gives me chills. Watching her performance in the drill team was like seeing a rendition of the nutcracker, but with at least one very beautiful and talented person, hiding. Perhaps, I'm biased, yet my eyes were strung to her. I could not look away. Riffle bearing, shuffling around on a gym floor in uniforms, reciting commands, and all in complete synchronized form; who knew it could be such an art? Observing her made the experience convince me I was to do the impossible: try out. I'm creative, but this of course, is new. But I'll also be closer to her, if I make it.

8

I love how she analyzes hard. I hate how she uses this against me so often. Really, this fact of all is the most true. Trying out for the drill team, my eyes were set straight as taught. But more than anything else, I felt her eyes boring into me. Her expression was neutral, but I knew in her mind she was thinking of all the ways I had faulted and critique me harsh. And I knew, just from the feeling she gave me with her eyes, that her words would be more venomous than concerning anyone else. That's how it works, that's what's expected here and now. But I'm determined enough. I trained hard enough. Her pretty face can't distract me, either from making the drill team.

9

I love how she is creative. I hate show she hides it, and when she used it to simply try me. Though, I don't especially mind. Our eyes locked and our bodies moving in odd motions, competing. It wasn't necessarily sensual, but I felt somehow more connected with her than at any other moment we've ever shared (so far). With her normally strict and serious expression, I was surprised at how easily the new movements poured out from her mind and into her physical self. I felt myself trying harder than ever to impress her, live up to her. And even with the fact that I made this drill team; it wasn't enough. We struck others, though. We, we were going to do a routine together. Work together and become closer. Being court marshaled was probably the best thing ever.

10

I love how she is stubborn. I hate how she nearly ignored our growth. But that's okay. Strutting into that gym, prouder of myself than ever and my heart soared at the little bit of the biting conversation I overheard. "I knew that she was just a little..." "Maggot? Is that what you were going to say ma'am?" And in that moment, I realized our relationship had changed vastly: from bitterness to a slight growing warmth. My confidence had expanded vastly since the beginning of the competition, and now preforming with her I didn't feel so inferior. I can't describe my feeling when it was done, and our silly grins while still properly saluting; if possible, I think I had fallen in love with her all over again. And even though the team did not win, I had won. Certainly.