I don't remember how Michael Clifford and I began hating each other. We just do, almost as if was just natural for us. What I do remember is my first day at this damn school which also happened to be the first time I ever spoke to Michael.

It was like any other first day except it was the middle of the school year and I was the new kid who moved in from some random redneck part of the city. Don't get me wrong, I hated it there and I would much rather be here compared to that place. But at least Michael would never step foot in a town like that so when I visit family, I don't have to worry about seeing him at all.

Anyway, I was in chemistry class when the tall, brightly colored hair boy came stumbling in with his even taller friend. He was wearing all dark clothes like any other fake punk would. This seemed to be a common occurrence with these two boys based off the little reactions from everyone in the class. Our teacher sighed at the slight of them walking over to the lab tables.

The pair come up to the lab that I'm sitting in and stared at me with the most confused look. I was already in a mood from not being able to understand what was going on so I didn't feel like arguing with them over a dumb seat.

"I'll just find a different table," I say as I collected my things off the lab desk.

The red haired one puts his hand on my paper to stop it from sliding off the desk and into my bag.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'll sit here with you and Luke can find his own seat. Right, Luke?" He nudges his friend who was staring off into space.

"Uh, okay," Luke shrugs his shoulders and heads over to another table where a boy with a curly, but soft looking, afro was sitting.

The one who decided he would sit next to me carefully slid onto the stool beside me. I take back out my supplies and ignore him. I was new so I needed to pay attention and not talk during class.

"I'm Michael by the way. What's your name?" He leans over and whispers.

"Dawn," I say, not looking away from the notes that the teacher was writing on the board.

     "Cute, I like that name. Dawn," He says.

     I ignored his comment and continued to do my work. Unlike some people, I actually care about that kind of stuff.

     The bell rings to dismiss my grade level for lunch. And a part of me, as naive as I was, sort of hoped Michael would be there. Sure, he's a "bad boy" but he was intriguing to me.

     Remembering that detail about my past self makes me want to vomit. I can't believe there was a time that I wished Michael and I were in the same place. Gross.

     Sure enough though, Michael was at my lunch. I sat alone but I noticed his constant glances over at me. He obviously wanted to come to me but chose not to. However, the curly haired boy from chemistry did.

     That's when Calum and I met. He's my best friend. We spend every second that we can together. He knows about how Michael and I grew into how we are now. He swears that it's just a dumb thing that we will get over when we finally realize that we like each other but I tell him that's outrageous.

     Michael is basically my mortal enemy. There's no way in hell that I would let my standards drop that low to like him in that way. Or in any way really. I couldn't name one redeeming quality about that prick.

     Alas, here we are, junior year. I'm no longer intrigued by the boy who can't keep a hair color longer than a month. As I said before, I have no idea how it got to this point. I don't really care honestly. I don't mind the position that I'm in with Michael.

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