Waking up at seven thirty in the morning, I only had five minutes to get ready for school, that is how lazy I was. When I got up and walked to the bathroom, I looked at the girl in the mirror, and at this point, I did not care if I was late for school, because my hair is a mess, and I was not in the mood to get bullied today.

I ran down the stairs when I was done with everything, I grabbed my bag from the living room where I forgot it last night. I looked at my parents who were in the living room chatting, they turned when they heard some noise coming from where I am standing.

"Late again, Malia?" Dad sent me an unamused look, while my mom gave me a disapproving look.

"Malia, please focus on school," mom sighed.

"If I stayed here, I would be late for school," I murmured.

"Fine, go and we will have this discussion later," mom points to the door.

"See ya," I breathed out.

*

I felt dead at school. One of the things I hate most about being in school are the students. This is not an average school; this is a stereotypical school. There are bad boys, nerds, jocks, geeks, cheerleaders, the unnoticed people, and there are the normal ones like me. I am not popular nor am I unnoticed, most people know me.

I do not hate everyone; I just do not like them. But there is one person I hate the most in this school, and he fits in the 'good bad boys' category. He is the popular bad boy, it might sound cliche, but every girl in our school is in love with him. For what? I do not know.

He might be attractive, but still, that does not mean to lower your pride just to please him. His wavy light golden—brown hair that is a mess – which makes him hotter — with light blue eyes. Okay, I admit that he was attractive and hot.

He acts as if he owns the school, rumors say that even the teachers fear him, that only proves that they are some old pussies that fear an eighteen—year—old teenage boy. In fact, he knows that I hate him to death. He knows that I cannot bear talking to him, and that I always feel irritated when he is around me.

No matter how hard he tries to be nice to me, I despise him more and more each day.

Anyway, I was trying to walk faster because I wanted to finish with everything that includes school. I accidentally tripped someone, and he fell, and all his things flew everywhere. I licked my lips as I let out a gasp. Oh my god, what have I done?

Even though I act tough, I am still nice to people, so the option to help the guy was my only option in my head.

I cursed under my breath, as I kneeled to help him gather his stuff. "Strange getting help from you," he said. I looked up to meet his blue eyes, it had to be him. How cliché was that, thinking of him and him appearing in front of me?

I let go of the things I gathered and stood up, "it's you."

As I said before, I am nice to people, but only to those who deserve my kindness.

"Oh, come on! Can't you be nice for one day?" He asked, letting out a sigh.

Oh, he knows me alright.

Lucas is tall and fit, he has a muscular body, and I bet there is a six—packs hiding under his hoodie.

"No, I can't," I shook my head. "It is impossible."

It is not possible to be nice to him, he just does not deserve it.

He rose an eyebrow, "I don't understand, why do you hate me that much?"

I looked at him with an innocent look, "and who said that I hated you?"

Lucas snorted, "your actions. It's been three years, Malia, get over it."

I gave a flat look, "that doesn't mean you didn't do it."

"I didn't mean to run over your dog, I swear!" He pouted. "Besides, they took away my permit because of you."

"I don't care anymore, okay?" I rolled my eyes as I made my way to my class.

He was on his deathbed anyway, and it had been too long since that incident.

Lucas used to be my friend back when we were fourteen, we broke it off when he accidentally ran over my twelve—year—old dog, he got his permit and was so excited to drive. He did not notice the dog chasing some weird creature in front of him.

I heard his voice from behind, I turned around and met his eyes again. "There are other reasons too, Lucas."

"Let me know the reasons, maybe I didn't mean to hurt you, Malia," he whispered the last part. "I promise you; you tell me why you hate me that much, and after that, I will leave you alone and never bother you again."

That is a quite good deal, if you ask me.

"I have ten reasons why I hate you, Lucas," I bit my lip. "And I'll tell you the first reason tomorrow."