A Silly Game Called Love: A High School Bully Romance

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his slurred words tumbling out of his mouth.

For a few seconds, Kate just stood, there, frozen, unable to answer this creature who had abruptly, almost violently entered her life. Eventually she managed to squeak out, "Kate. I'm gonna be liv-"

"Oh, you," He sneered, "The homeless one." He flung open the fridge, then found himself forgetting what he'd wanted to retrieve. Gotta stop the drinking! he thought amusedly, then turned back to that girl.

"Um, not exactly, it's just that my school kinda…"

Cameron sighed aloud, and slammed the fridge door closed. "Look, I'm really not interested in your story, Okay?" Cameron started heading towards the door when he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, and turned around on his heel to see the brunette, wide-eyed, making various shocked noises. Somehow, this angered the slightly inebriated Cameron. "See, I just wanted to come home and crash, not have to deal with some indigent schoolgirl sneaking up on me!"

"Sneak up on you?" Kate found herself yelling, her blood boiling at his arrogant condescension.

"What the hell are you doing up this late anyway?" He demanded defensively.

"What the hell were you doing out this late?"

"Oh, don't turn this around on me - wait, you're not gonna tell my Dad this, are you?" Not that his Dad would care; it would just be easier for his dad not to think that he needed some father-son chat. The girl's mouth broke into a wicked grin, and for one brief second Cameron was actually afraid; then it settles into a serious line. She took in a breath, then exhaled slowly.

"Look, let's just all calm down here. This wasn't my first choice either, you know, in fact I had no say -"

Cameron broke in with a seemingly amused tone cut with an edge of sarcasm. "Oh, well when you put it that way, I'm being selfish. Then it must be no big deal that you're invading my house, my school, my very life, everything, huh?"

As intimidated by this character as Kate was, her anger seemed to override it. "God, you're a drama queen. And drunk. Look, Look, I'm trying to be civil, but apparently that's just too much of a stretch for you. Well whatever, screw you. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow."

Cameron looked away, his fuzzy brain trying to process her speech, and when he looked up, she was gone. He groaned and ran his fingers though his hair, massaging his head, in which the pressure seemed to be increasing. He was dumbfounded by her little declaration; he would've pegged her as meeker than that, especially around him. She had the meek look. That glasses, Winnie-and-the-pooh-pajamas look with her seemingly colorless hair pulled back from her face. The glasses made her deer-in-the-headlights look even worse, but it didn't last for long, as was soon replaced by an entertainingly stubborn expression that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Either way, he wasn't enthusiastic about having to deal wit her. Whatever, he thought - it was no skin off his back if they didn't like each other. They'd avoid each other, and everything would be okay. As he said it to himself, he almost believed it - so why wasn't the pressure in his receding?