Hate-Filled || An enemies to lovers story

Chapter 3: Theo

Since the first moment I laid eyes on Nora, I knew she would be trouble. With her perfect blonde hair and lightly freckled cheeks and that carefree attitude.

She knocked into me and didn't even bother to say sorry. And I know I sound like a dick–maybe I am– but she doesn't get that I do not get disrespected around here. Everyone knows who I am and understands their place in my life.

Yet, she doesn't care that my grandfather owns half the land in London and even more in Scotland. Barging in with a knack for defaming the social order will get her in trouble.

Usually, I don't pay attention to people that run their mouth about me, or at me for that matter. But she has something that pulls me in and makes me want to keep fighting with her. To challenge her.

Maybe it could be the way her eyes widen or her nose scrunches when I say one of my usual remarks. It could also be the way she fights back. Nobody does that.

I had trouble concentrating in chemistry due to her huffing and puffing when I didn't follow her instruction. She rolled her eyes and started mumbling under her breath something about snobby rich kids and their attitude problems.

When I got to leave the classroom, I couldn't stop thinking about her quick remarks. I am starting to believe I am going mad.

It doesn't help that we're neighbors, so everytime I get home I have to see her little mini cooper that has three bumper stickers about some boyband.

In fact, I can hear her music from my room. She sings loudly, probably shaking her house with her voice. Her father probably has to wear ear muffs to block out the sound.

Finally, the music stops exactly when a knock is heard at my door. My mom pushes it open slowly, her usual smile on her face.

"Hello, my little teddy bear." Mum and her usual terms of endearment that she always uses to embarrass me in public. "The neighbors invited us for dinner, so we have to be there at seven."

I smile up at her. "Mrs. Chandler invited us for dinner again?"

She shakes her head. "No. The new neighbors. Mr. Hills and his daughter."

My smile drops as I hear what she says. But, not wanting to disappoint mum, I keep my emotions in check. "Okay, mum. I'll be ready by then."

She leaves, content with my answer.

Mum had me when she was eighteen. She was barely a child when she got pregnant by some older man who wanted nothing to do with her. My grandpa was furious about her ruining her perfect image and demanded she abort me. But mum, with her extra sweet ways, convinced him that she could raise me.

Four years ago she had my sister. The product of her marriage with my stepfather who is a successful international businessman, so he is never home. He comes back for days at a time and then leaves us months alone. I'm not fond of him, but mum claims she loves him.

He tries to get on my good side, but I don't understand how he doesn't raise his daughter and gets praise for the three days a month he sees her. It doesn't seem fair to me or my mum.

I was the one who woke up to change her diaper when mum was too tired. I am the one that has to babysit her when mum wants to go out with her friends. I am the one she comes crying to whenever she has a nightmare.

This isn't bitterness, it's resentment.

Speaking of the little devil, she comes rushing into my room holding two dolls. Her dolls are in pristine shape because she thinks they are real.

"Teddy, do you think the new neighbor will want to play dolls with me?" She asks, her eyes lighting up with hope that she can play with someone who isn't me.