Serena's POV
I hate him.
It's not just the usual "I dislike this person" kind of hate. It's the kind of hate that gets under your skin, the kind that crawls into your veins and settles there, twisting and burning every time you think about him.
Kyle Winters. The name alone makes my blood boil. I can hear it echoing in my mind like a curse I can't escape. I slam my locker shut, trying to control the rage bubbling up inside me, but it's hard when he's standing right there, looking like he owns the entire damn hallway.
He's tall, with dark, almost too-perfect features and that stupid, annoying smirk that always seems to be plastered on his face. The way he stands, the way he holds himself—it's like he knows something I don't, like he's better than me. The worst part? He knows it too.
I catch his gaze across the hallway, and for a split second, I swear I see the tiniest flicker of something in his eyes. It's almost… smug. And I can't stand it.
"Serena, you're grinding your teeth again," Sophie says beside me, her voice a little too knowing. I can feel the amused smile tugging at her lips, and I know she's watching me like I'm about to explode. And maybe I am. "Why do you let him get to you so much?"
I shake my head, pushing my dark curls out of my face in frustration. "He's the most insufferable person I've ever met in my life," I mutter under my breath, though it feels like a low growl, the kind that might get me into trouble if I said it any louder.
"Maybe you're overreacting," Sophie suggests, but I can hear the teasing note in her voice. She's been my best friend for years, so she knows how I feel about Kyle. How much I hate him.
"I don't overreact," I say, my tone sharp as I glance back at Kyle, who's now surrounded by his friends. They're all laughing, like the world is their personal playground, and it makes my blood boil. His laugh cuts through the noise of the hallway, and I swear the sound itself is just as annoying as the guy. "I just want to punch him."
Sophie raises an eyebrow, glancing over at me. "Serena, I love you, but if you punch him, you're going to be the one in detention. Trust me, it's not worth it."
I roll my eyes, turning back toward my locker and shoving my books inside with more force than necessary. "I don't care. I swear he does it on purpose, Sophie. He loves getting under my skin. It's like he knows how much I can't stand him, and he does it more and more just to get a reaction."
Sophie sighs dramatically. "I think you're just looking for reasons to get mad at him. I've never seen someone who gets so worked up over another person." Her voice is teasing, but there's a hint of concern in it too. "Do you even know why you hate him so much?"
I stop in my tracks, feeling a strange tug in my chest. Of course, I know why I hate him. It's not like it's some complicated mystery. He's arrogant, reckless, and he's been a constant thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. But somehow, Sophie's question feels like a challenge, like she's daring me to dig deeper.
I force myself to shake it off. "I just do," I mutter. "Okay? I've always hated him."
Sophie doesn't push it, though I can see the way her eyes flicker with curiosity. She's one of the few people who actually gets me, but even she doesn't fully understand how Kyle's presence makes everything feel off.
I glance back toward him again. This time, he's looking at me. I freeze. His eyes catch mine from across the hall, and there's something in his gaze that feels too… knowing. Like he's not just looking at me; he's reading me. And I hate it.
There's no escaping it. He's here, and he's looking at me, and I'm looking right back at him, and for a second, I can't breathe. It's like the whole world is waiting for me to do something—anything.
And then, like always, that smirk creeps up on his face.
I hate that smirk.
"Are you really going to keep glaring at him all day?" Sophie asks, crossing her arms. "Because that's going to get old fast."
I want to scream. I want to throw something. I don't even know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I want him to stop looking at me like that, to stop acting like I'm some game to him.
"Shut up," I snap, turning back toward her, my frustration spilling over. "You don't get it."
She doesn't push. Instead, she sighs and glances over at Kyle and his friends. "You know, it's kind of funny. You two are like… polar opposites. And yet, you're always in each other's business."
I scowl. "We're not in each other's business. He's just a walking headache."
Sophie chuckles. "Sure, that's what you want to call it."
But it's more than just a headache. It's more than just the constant irritation. Kyle Winters isn't just someone I can ignore. He's like a shadow that follows me everywhere I go. Every time I turn around, there he is—looking at me with that infuriatingly perfect face and that laugh that could drive anyone mad.
I hate him.
And I'm so damn tired of it.