More than Hate

The one I used to be

Rose

The moment the words left my mouth, Mr. Anderson’s face lit up. “Wait a minute—your names go together so well, don’t they? Blake Thorn and Rose White!” he exclaimed, and the entire room burst into laughter.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you two are a couple!” the teacher added enthusiastically.

“More like mortal enemies!” someone yelled, and the class roared with amusement.

I glared at Blake, my voice dripping with irritation. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Blake smirked, leaning back casually as if soaking up the attention. The room buzzed with anticipation, like the crowd watching their favourite drama unfold.

“Always my pleasure to see you lose your patience, dear,” he replied smoothly.

“You seem far too eager to make others get the wrong idea about us!” I shot back.

“Why not? If it makes you this mad, I might even kiss you!” he teased, and his friends erupted in cheers.

“You go, man!” one of his friends shouted.

Blake leaned back, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “But that would be extremely unbearable—even for me. Then again,” he added with a wicked grin, “you might actually enjoy it.”

“There’s more to people than beauty, asshole!” I snapped.

“So… does that mean you’re calling me handsome?”

“No! But I definitely called you an asshole!”

“Okay, guys, let’s remember we’re in the classroom,” Mr. Anderson interrupted, his tone firm but light. “So please, refrain from saying these kinds of things to your classmates!”

His words snapped me out of some sort of spell. Why is it that every time he is involved, everything else fades away? It’s like the whole room disappears, leaving just him and me locked in this ridiculous battle.

The argument stopped, and we reluctantly returned to the game. Thankfully, Mr. Anderson didn’t send us to the principal’s office.

As I tried to shake off the embarrassment, Samantha leaned in and whispered, “Well, for an introvert, you sure seemed pretty confident yelling in front of the whole class.”

After that, the rest of the time, which felt like a century, dragged on painfully, especially with someone’s burning gaze fixed on me.

Look, I get it—this might sound special, even romantic, to someone who doesn’t know our story. But as handsome as he might be, we could never be anything more than enemies. Why, you ask? Because we can’t exist without bickering.

From the moment people paired us together against our will, we both did our best to show how different we were—or maybe who was better. Whether it was grades, sports, or anything else, everything became a competition. For a while, I felt great being around him, even though I’d never admit it to anyone else. With our rivalry, I was constantly pushing myself to be better—the best version of myself. Until I wasn’t.

Our rivalry helped me cope with the chaos in my life at the time, but eventually, the darkness consumed the light it gave me. He changed. I changed. And suddenly, I wasn’t enough to be his rival anymore. While I was falling, he was rising.

He became popular, confident—arrogant, even. And why wouldn’t he be? He was perfect. He stopped caring about his grades or other trivial things. Most painfully, he stopped caring about me. Because to him, I was nothing.

My admiration for him turned into hatred, and he noticed. The relationship we once had come back—but this time, it was different. It was harsher, more vicious, more forced. And I didn’t care. In some twisted way, I liked it. It made me feel alive again. It helped me escape.

But now? Now it just feels exhausting. Being compared to him, associated with him, measured against the perfect version of him—I’ve given up. I’m tired of being visible at all.

Still, they say old habits die hard. Every time I try to run away, he drags me right back into the game.

When the bell rang, I felt a huge sense of relief.

I was walking to the schoolyard with Samantha, and, as usual, she was talking excitedly about the masquerade ball on Friday.

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be awesome!”

“Mhm…” I replied, nodding in hopes that I wouldn’t have to break it to her just yet.

“Wait! I know that look! Don’t tell me you’re planning on skipping it!”

“I’m sorry, Atha... it’s just that I’m not really in the mood lately.”

“You mean every Christmas? Is it because of that… thing?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I respect that, but Rose, it’s been three years. You’ve got to let it go at some point. I know it’s hard, and I won’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I hate seeing you like this. I miss the old, optimistic you—the Rose who could find the silver lining even in the worst situations. Even though she could be annoying sometimes, I want her back!” She said, making me laugh. “And I’m not the only one,” she continued. “Everyone misses you. They love you.”

“I know…” I murmured. “I’m working on it. I’ll be back to my annoying self soon, I promise.” I joked, but she knew better. The empty smiles weren’t enough to fool her. After eight years of friendship, she could read me like an open book.

She was talking about the incident that had changed everything for me three years ago. My parents got a divorce, but they didn’t tell me right away. Instead, they pretended everything was fine, like they were still together.

They used to argue a lot, to the point where I actually wished they would just get a divorce, so they’d stop ruining every happy moment we had. I even suggested it a couple of times. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped fighting. It was like a switch had flipped. Their time at home decreased significantly—my mom had to work more at the office, and my dad started going on overseas trips for photoshoots, since he was a photographer. When they were together, though, they still acted so in love, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we could be a normal family. We could have dinners without someone getting on the other’s nerves, play games and laugh at silly shows, or go on vacations without them being cancelled last minute due to yet another argument.

But my dream of a perfect family wasn’t meant to be. Their little act ended about six months later when I found the divorce papers.

There’s nothing more dangerous than hope. And that fateful evening? It was Christmas.

“Hellooo!! Earth calling Rose!” Samantha snapped me out of my thoughts. “Great, now that I have your attention again, let’s get back to our previous conversation. I know you don’t want to come, but I have a little surprise that might change your mind.” She said the magic word—surprise. Best friends are really dangerous…

“And that is?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Now, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it? Drop by my house this evening, and I’ll show you. And drop the act, please—I know you’re dying to know!”

“Okay, okay, I got it!” I agreed, giving up since she already figured it out.

“Great! I know you’ll love it!” Samantha beamed, and I couldn’t help but feel glad to see her so happy. Maybe I should reconsider the idea of going… It won’t even be Christmas, since our school hosts the ball almost a month before the holidays, so more people would be available.

“I don’t even know why you’re so fixated on me going. You can always take Connor with you.”

“Please, Rose, you’re my best friend. Besides, I don’t really like Connor. I only talk to him because he’s your friend.”

“Mhm, sure…” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Samantha rolled her eyes and mimicked me in an exaggerated, annoying voice, “Mhm, sure…” She was clearly pointing out how sarcastic I sounded. “Okay, what was that?!” she demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Please, I feel the irony in your voice!”

“Girl, you’re practically drooling over him!”

“Excuse me?!” she said, her voice getting high-pitched, and I tried not to burst into laughter. “Why would I? He’s not even handsome!”

“Yeah, right. Golden hair, fair skin, alluring reddish eyes. Come on, girl!”

“He looks like a vampire!” Samantha said. Well, she’s not wrong. He doesn’t only look like a vampire; he also acts like one—he avoids the sun because he’s sensitive to it. I mean, that’s normal since he has partial albinism. “Besides, if you think he’s so handsome, why don’t you go out with him?” she continued.

“Come on, Atha, at this point, Connor’s practically like my brother. You know that. Also, I know better than to hit on my best friend’s future husband.”

“What are you saying?!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock.

With a sly smile, I pulled a small notebook from my backpack and read aloud, “Dear magic diary, I, Samantha Gray, wish to marry a beautiful, handsome, amazing vampire in the future. Don’t forget the blonde hair and red eyes.” I paused, giving her a teasing look, then closed the notebook and added, “Did I mention he has to be handsome?”

Before she could react, I turned and started running as fast as I could.

“Shut up! Come back here right now! I was only 10 years old when I wrote that!!” Samantha yelled, already chasing after me.

“That’s old enough!” I shouted over my shoulder.

As I ran, I glanced back to see Samantha right behind me, and I suddenly bumped into something.