How long does it take to hate someone and validly say so without being criticized? Is there a logical explanation for why this seems to happen? Does it have something to do with the number of times you're near that person? What if you hate someone only because they have something you want? Sounds childish, right?

Picture this; you're a cute, little, fifth-grade nerd and The National Spelling Bee season is back. You study day and night, sweating and crying just to correct spelling words and critique your tone and manner. Finally, the big day arrives. Because you're amazing, you get down to the final two, but what do you know, you lose to a girl who didn't even want to be in the spelling bee in the first place and just wanted attention. Does she still have a right to claim her reward? Are you allowed to hate her?

Then again, what does hate even mean, and why specifically do teenagers decide to use the word so much? That and the word "like". Using the four-letter word "like" is so commonly used that we inherit it from one another, and maybe that's what's happening with the word "hate". I say there's a fine line between hate and love, but those two sides tend to mix and match on alternating days.

My conclusion is don't say words just because they're the in-trend. The word still has the same original meaning no matter how many times it's used. Hate is hate, and that's all there is to it. So trust me, when I say I hate Priscilla Flanagan, I mean I loathe her entire existence. And of course, when Whitney knocks on my bedroom door three hours after my argument with her son saying Priscilla's coming for dinner instead of going out with Paxson, my immediate response was to say, "Board up the house, lock your doors, and hide the children, the Ice Queen is coming!"

But of course, I'm a nice, rational person, so instead, I tell her, "Wow, sounds great." I need to stay on her good side, no matter how it tortures me.

One hour. I have one hour to gather my bearings and find peace this Saturday afternoon before her Royal Majesty enters the same space as me. So much for them going out together and me dodging that bullet. She's completely changed targets, and her venom is heading straight for my head! What the hell does Paxson see in her anyway?

"She's not my girlfriend." I can hear Paxson's clear voice set on convincing me of that appalling lie. He may not think they are together, but she thinks so, and that's what worries me. The sole fact is that she will do everything in her power to persuade Paxson that he too wants a relationship with her.

I guess I can't blame her for assuming he'll want to be with her, considering her physique. Priscilla is a 5'9 toothpick, strawberry blonde, pouty-lipped drama queen filled with cash, but what do I care? I'm not going to say the girl isn't smart, but I don't think she understands the function of her brain yet, which isn't so unfortunate these days. She has her looks, her charm, and a million little piggy banks stuffed with hundreds. It's obvious Ms. Money Bags is set for life. She has everything she could want in the world, yet she decides she wants one more thing to please her ego; Paxson.

I've only met the girl once, and boy was that more than enough! A week after I moved, Paxson and Priscilla went to the movies, and he introduced us in the most awkward way possible. It was so awkward that I swear it was planned!

"Priscilla, this is Prim. She's a great friend of mine, and just moved in with my family." Paxson opened his arms towards me as if it meant "Ta-da, this is my ex! She's not much, I know! Get a good look at this failure!"

I gave her one sweep of the eye, and instantly my nostrils flared. This girl was a Barbie doll! But not that super-thin doll that makes you wonder how many meals she skips a day. She's that super evened-out model type Barbie that usually has the swimsuit outfit right when you buy her fresh out of the box. Pure and classic, a beauty.

She's been carved by the gods, just like Wonder Woman.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Prim." her teeth sparkled when she smiled and held out her hand. It was soft as milk. Is this girl for real?

Apparently, she is, because not only is she taking Paxson's whole evening just to please herself, but now she's chosen to consume everyone else's evening as well. Better yet, why am I the only one who seems pissed about this?!

By five-thirty, I establish some last-minute ground rules for myself and head out the creaking hallway down the steps. As I wind down the stairs, I get a hold of Fabien who's traveling up and knock his arm to earn his attention.

"How do you feel about Priscilla coming over?" I intensify her name. He shrugs.

"She's smoking hot and rich. Should I not want her to come over for dinner?" He expects me to counterclaim his argument, but I roll my eyes and continue down the steps. Boys will be boys.

Making a right towards the kitchen, I'm greeted with the familiar marble countertops, six charcoal stools, and the smell of pasta aroma with a hint of mint.

Caddy's already on her booster chair playing with some kiddy book, and Ethan has his iPad in hand to pass the time. They both love mealtime, that's for sure. These children are monsters and eat anything in their path, I've witnessed it with my own eyes! Just don't feed these suckers past midnight.

Whitney hums an unfamiliar tune while stirring a pot on the stove, and Paxson cuts up some veggies.

"Ah, look who's gathered the nerves to come downstairs and help out." Whitney motions her free hand my way, and I take it she wants me to testify.

"I'm sorry if you needed help I would've-"

"Oh nonsense, I'm only teasing. But while you're here, can you set up some drinks for us? Ronnie won't be here in time for dinner, so just six cups." I nod at her request.

I breeze by Whitney and Paxson, his presence burning my blood. The wooden cabinet has a stock of cups and I claim six of them. Setting them next to each empty seat, and handing one to already eager Ethan, I rummage around the fridge for drinks to place on the table.

"Sorry," I speak in Paxson's general direction. "There's no gluten-free, fat-free, sugar-free, or diet beverages for Her Majesty this evening. She'll have to be okay with apple juice, Coke, water, or milk." My sour tone spews like acid.

I bat my eyelashes innocently, and the corner of Paxson's eye reaches me. I slam the fridge shut and place the apple juice and Coke on the table. The kitchen is perfectly silent, then a clatter of metal shakes it awake.

"What's your deal with Priscilla? You've only met her once and you already have her on your death list!" His anger amuses me, and I shrug with a mischievous grin.

"Prim, this isn't funny! You're such a petty teenage girl, you know that?" His striped red and black flannel is buttoned to the very top, and his sleeves are pushed back to give his arms more room to breathe.

To keep from losing my cool from his painfully true statement, I stare at the very top button and question why he didn't let it loose. Do I make him so uncomfortable that he has to button his shirt up? Is it weird that I'm assuming I'm the reason for it being buttoned? Is it weird that I'm staring at it?

The sudden urge to cry waves over my corneas, but letting them fall would mean I'd lose and ruin the smart-mouth act that I love too much.

"Petty?" I force a giggle. "I wish you had a better sense of vocabulary because petty is way too basic for an intelligent guy like you."

Paxson's face grows red and the tension's just starting to build when Whitney cuts right in.

"Okay, you both need to stop acting like a married couple, especially right in front of the kids. Seriously, knock it off," she walks right in the middle of us to set down the pot of pasta.

"Paxson dear, if you're too busy fighting, move over so I can finish cutting the cucumber for the salads." Whitney's whipping ponytail full of milk chocolate hair with hints of grey slaps the back of Paxson's head. She takes the knife and proceeds to finish cutting.

Paxson and I glare at each other for a good five seconds.

"No mom," Paxson sighs, still staring straight at me. "I'll finish it."

Whitney turns her head to kiss her son's cheek and smiles. Her skin wrinkles around the corners, signifying a tiring last few years, yet that doesn't manage to keep the light out of her life.

She pats Paxson's shoulder and carefully hands him the knife. "Remember, the cucumber is behind you, dear, not in front of you." She flashes a smile again before heading to the two kids at the table who've started their argument of some sort.

"Now wait for just a second, I'm pretty sure none of you washed your hands before dinner." Whitney's hands are on her hips and her two kids don't say a word.

"Okay kiddos, let's clean you both up before eating." She takes Caddy out of her high chair and Ethan follows behind them as they walk to the bathroom around the stairs.

Paxson and I are alone again.

The familiar chop of the cucumber rhythmically echoes in the kitchen. I blindly step closer to Paxson, then quickly back away.

"I love it when you cook. It's an attractive quality." I express to him as he finishes sprinkling cheese on my soup.

"Well, I love to cook for you. I'm always so happy when you enjoy my food. It makes me feel accomplished." Paxson holds my hand and leads me to the table. He places the bowl of soup perfectly in front of me and brings his bowl over to join me.

"Maybe one day you could teach me how to make some dishes." I blow on my spoon full of heated spice and flavor. Paxson's eye light up.

"I'd love to. But first I think you should start by learning how to make a salad. It seems less dangerous." Paxson winks and I nudge his arm, causing his spoon full of soup to fall on his shirt.

"Well, that's going to leave a stain." I giggle and Paxson attempts to dab away the soup on his shirt.

"Note to self, keep soup away from Prim. It's her most deadly weapon." I snort into a laughing spree and Paxson starts seconds after.

He makes everything seem like heaven just by being himself.

"Prim, hey. Earth to Prim. You okay?"

I blink a few times. "Uh yeah."

"I asked if you wanted a salad?" Paxson points at the bowls full of lettuce.

"I uh, I'm good." I slouch into the nearest chair and fight back the memories that bring salty tears to my eyes.

Just as I'm pulling myself together, the doorbell chimes and a block of ice-cold shivers run down my spine.

"Mommy, it's Priscilla!" Ethan announces and I hear the front door being pulled open.

The greetings start, and my mask comes on.

I hear a flutter of laughter moving this way, and I turn to see Ethan and Caddy dragging Priscilla towards the kitchen, Whitney behind them whispering something in her ear. Probably an apology on behalf of her nutty kids.

As they reach the table, Ethan says my name. "Prim,"

"Yeah?" I say as enthusiastically as I can.

"You need to move. That's Priscilla's seat."

I glance at her and her face turns red. "Oh hey, don't worry Ethan she's fine where she is. I'll just sit-"

"No, no." I slide off the chair. "I'll sit on the other side." My elastic smile seems to fool everyone as I rearrange myself in the seat across from her.

Just on cue, Paxson brings over the salad. Priscilla walks over to greet him, and it takes all my might not to barf.

"Hi there, hottie." She traps him in a hug, her hands running all over his dorsum.

"Hey, Cilla. Glad you're okay with the change of plans." Paxson beams, and it snaps my heart in two.

Why is he looking at her like that? What does that smile mean? Is he giving her goo-goo eyes?

"No worries, my pool is always an open invitation for you. Whenever you wanna take a dip, let me know." She flattens her pencil skirt to sit down.

"Oh, well thank you." Paxson blushes and takes a seat to the right of her.

Why does everything she says sound sexualized?

Whitney tucks Ethan in and settles Caddy back in her booster seat. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get my other son. But please, feel free to start eating." Whitney makes her way up the stairs and Paxson sighs.

"I'm also gonna leave for a second. Going to use the restroom before stuffing my face." He looks straight at me with pleading eyes, then disperses to the bathroom.

Ethan serves himself and his baby sister, then they both eat up. Priscilla's pretty face turns grim and she digs into the pan of pasta, unimpressed.

"This doesn't look organic." She mumbles and holds my gaze. Her stare electrocutes me, and I send that same static right back at her.

She slowly tops her plate with pasta and looks back at me with a plastic smile. "You want some?"

I have no time to respond when she smacks some pasta on my plate, causing it to splatter all over me. None of the kids even glance once to see what happened, both are too invested in their food.

Footsteps from behind Priscilla flick back her good girl switch, and I keep my surprise hidden.

"Prim, I was gone for nearly ten seconds. What the heck happened?" Paxson motions to my stained shirt and sauce on my face. I reach for my napkin and start to clean myself off.

"She had an uh oh!" Caddy says, sauce all over her face.

My pupils burn and Priscilla wipes her face with a napkin. "She's just a little clumsy," she taps the seat next to her and he reluctantly squats.

I rub the tomato sauce off my face and flash her an acerbic smile. Whitney comes down the stairs with Fabien, and power walks to the seat to the right of me, Fabien following next to her.

"Sorry. Did I miss something?" She sweeps strains of hair away from her face and scoops up her serving from the pan.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I bite my food and pray it doesn't plan on making a reappearance.

"I'm telling you! It was crazy! And my dad just laughs it off!" the whole table is in a burst of laughter and I've been cringing the entire time.

"What a trooper!" Whitney dabs her eyes which are watering up from laughing so hard.

One minute and twelve seconds. That's all it took for Priscilla to brag about herself and all the wonders of being rich, making my appetite leap out the window.

"Oh, I almost forgot the dessert!" Whitney scurries to the fridge, and Priscilla waves her hand.

"Yeah, cake!" Ethan wipes his fork clean ready for the chocolate cake. And this is the main reason why this younger generation is more prone to being diagnosed with diabetes at an early age.

"Oh no, Ms. Morris, you don't need to get the cake. I mean everything has been so delicious. You must give me the recipe for this pasta." I snort and Priscilla gives me a wary look. I called attention to myself, and now I'm about to pay the price.

"Prim, you've barely touched your pasta. It's as if you don't like what Whitney has prepared. You know she worked hard to make this meal. The least you can do is be grateful and eat it."

Be good for Paxson so you can make him proud. Be good for Paxson so you can make him proud.

"Yes, you're right. She did work hard. My appetite just hasn't been with me today." I calmly fold my hands in my lap.

Whitney comes with a huge chocolate cake and adds a comment.

"That's okay. You can munch on it later. For now, it's cake time!" She slices little pieces for Ethan and Caddy, then Fabien cuts a piece, head bobbing from the tune his headphones play.

Whitney kindly cuts a piece for Priscilla but she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I must sit this one out. I'm on a diet."

Whitney blinks at Priscilla slowly, and to kill the awkwardness of her ridiculous comment I snatch the piece of cake. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not!"

I shove some cake in my mouth, and Paxson chuckles."Prim, this reminds me of the time we shared a chocolate cheesecake for your birthday a few years ago."

I swallow and nod, the memory slapping me in the face. "Oh yeah, I remember! That was too funny!"

Paxson snickers at the thought. "You were so excited that you devoured half the cake."

"I ended up having some of the cheesecake on my face." I giggle.

"And when the waiter saw you he-"

"Paxson, honey. Remember the time we went to that dance club?" Priscilla scoots closer to him and Paxson stutters at the change of topic.

"Uh, yeah sure."

"I've never danced with someone like that before." Her hand finds him, and she laces their fingers together.

Whitney clears her throat. "Well, I'm glad everyone enjoyed the food." Whitney stands to let Caddy down from her chair and starts clearing the dishes. I follow her lead.

"Oh, thanks." She rubs my shoulder. I stay at the sink already washing whatever dishes sit there.

Through the corner of my eye, I catch Priscilla dragging Paxson up the stairs, though he looks rather confused. I hide my eyes behind my bangs, and my lip quivers.

Don't do this. Don't be weak like this.

"We'll be upstairs. Thank you again, Ms. Morris." Priscilla waves and prances up the stairs, Paxson just a step behind her. He turns and mouths "thank you" and Whitney blows a kiss at her son.

"Prim, thank you so much for wanting to help." Whitney dries some forks that I bathed in the sink.

"But," she scoots closer to my ear. "What I really want you to do is make sure Her Royal Highness doesn't seduce my son."

She bumps my hip to take my spot at the sink, and she points a warning finger at me. "Whatever's going on between you two, I'm hesitant about, but for once I have to agree with you. That girl is a diva. Now go!"

In slow motion, I smile and climb up the stairs. I bypass Caddy's room on the left, and Ethan's messy room to the right. Fabien's always closed door that says "Enter, you die!" is the next left that I pass. Paxson's room is right next to the bathroom. The door is shut, and my courage to open it is nowhere to be found.

So instead, I lean my ear on the hollow wood and listen to what's happening a few feet away from me.

"Cilla, I don't think so. I barely know your friends and I don't really like to leave my family during dinner. It's the only time we get together." Paxson's monotone voice soothes my nerves.

"Oh come on, it's only a few people, I promise. A get-together, not a party. Besides, it's taking place at my house, not in China." Priscilla's sneaky charm creeps through the door.

"But-"

"I know what this is about," she exhales, disappointment seeping through. "You're worried about Prim, aren't you? Because of what happened to her. Such a shame. She's welcome to come over too if that'll make you feel better."

"I- I don't think that's a good idea." Paxson's voice is on edge now. "She doesn't like to swim, and she doesn't like parties."

I love to swim, and he knows it. Why would he lie?

"Oh, pity." She pouts so quietly I have to strain my neck to hear her.

There's shuffling and Paxson's voice becomes nearer. "Does the door really need to be closed?"

My eyes bulge, and I back away right before the door swings. Paxson's mouth gapes open, and Priscilla has positioned herself nicely on his bed.

"I was about to knock..." I clear my throat. Priscilla licks her lips as if her little game is about to start.

"Prim, we were just talking about you. You and Paxson are invited to my house tomorrow, but he says you don't swim."

He thinks I'll embarrass him. That's it! I flash a grin and prepare to hit him where it hurts. "I love to swim actually, and I'd love to come over. Thank you for the generous offer." I take my smirk and back away.

"I was going to ask you something, but I'll bother Whitney instead and leave you guys to it." I finish and peek over to see Paxson's repudiate stare. I walk back to my room and calmly click it shut.

Challenge accepted.

"I'll see you tomorrow, cutie." She encloses Paxson for the millionth time before officially leaving the house.

It's now fifteen past ten, and everyone else is in their rooms relaxing, not being bothered to say goodbye to our Royalty Company. Lucky them.

Paxson clicks the door shut, and leans his head on its frame, eyes closed.

"Well, what a success. Do I get a gold star for being on my best behavior?" I tiptoe closer to him, his eyes still sealed.

"You did well. Thanks" that's all he says.

"Are you upset that she invited me to go over to her house?" I can't help my curious mind from asking.

"Prim," The tiredness is back in his voice, thicker than ever. "You shouldn't go."

"And why not?" I poke at him.

"Because."

"Oh, that's a great reason why. You know, just 'cause you said that I'm very convinced that I shouldn't go because it's quite obvious that-"

He latches on my arms and squeezes. "Because I don't want you to!"

Paxson slams his voice down on me with a punch. I let what he said buzz in my head.

"You think I'll embarrass you?" I bring my tone down to a whisper and look at his hands that wrap around my arms.

He lets go. "That's not it."

"Then what, huh? Are you too cool for me or something?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Paxson massages his face. "You start trouble, that's why," he admits, and I raise an eyebrow.

"I start trouble?" I echo back.

"Yes, you very much do. Not to mention you don't even like her!"

"I don't need to. I just want to swim. Don't worry, I'll leave you and her alone so you can eat each other's faces like you were about to do in your room earlier today!"

"I knew you were eavesdropping, you nosy freak!" His face turns bright red as he screams at me.

"For the record, it was your mother who wanted me to check up on the both of you because she was afraid that psycho bitch would make love to you in her own home with the kids around!" I say.

"That's the worst excuse in the book! My mom would never do that!"

"Go ask her yourself then. Not that I blame her for wanting a spy, Priscilla is all over you! "Oh look at me, I'm rich and super hot and wanna hold hands with Paxson because he's so dreamy!" It's ridiculous," I mock.

"You're so arrogant and surreptitious. You just love to butt into my life and torment me." Paxson paces the living room to calm his rage.

"News flash, you're the one always butting into my life! I didn't ask to be here." I retort back.

"Well, you didn't complain about it either!"

"Priscilla has no right to be tramping around in this house and claiming you like her property. She's a primadonna and cold-hearted, and you know it! I don't know what you see in her." I snap at Paxson, moving towards him as he walks away.

It's like a game of Pac-Man on steroids. He paces behind the couch, and I follow. He moves to the coffee table, I maneuver just the same. It's a never-ending cycle. A cycle that we both can't seem to end.

"You're the only primadonna I know!"

I force a laugh. "Then I guess you haven't seen Priscilla's true colors yet. Maybe I'm wrong, you don't know her at all. You're just that naïve and stupid! You can't even see how she plays you!"

"You know what," Paxson stops to finally face me. "I regret letting you stay here." The wrinkles on his forehead are more detailed, and annoyance dominates his handsome features

"And I regret accepting the offer!" I spread my arms out in defeat.

"Well, I wish I never dated you!" He points at me with fiery eyes, and I grab the nearest pillow on the couch and throw it at him.

"I wish I never met you!"

"You're a royal pain in my ass!" he says and my knees start to shake.

"You're a douchebag!" I shove his chest out of spite, then a get a face full of the pillow.

"God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you with the pillow that hard." Paxson coos, concern staining his face.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let my anger get that far. I feel awful... "

Paxson's arms wrap around my shoulders and he rubs them slowly All the rage and hatred evaporate, and I pray for this moment to never stop.

"Prim, I hate myself for hurting you, and I didn't mean any of those things I said. I'm so sorry."

He moves my bangs to look deep into my eyes. The fire has burned from his beautiful hazel eyes, and all that's left is hurt and guilt. I drape myself on him.

"I didn't mean any of it either," I whisper, and hold back my tears. Being emotional like this invites other depressing feelings to come out of hiding, and I can't let that happen. Still, Paxson is truly all I have left, and I can't bear the thought of losing him.

We stay in this blissful embrace until a door creaks open.

"You guys done being a soap opera? I have work tomorrow, kiddos." Whitney yawns and heads to the bathroom near the stairs.

"Also," she adds before entering the bathroom. "Your uncle will be home in a few, so please don't let him catch you two cuddling. I mean seriously, Paxson, he'll beat your ass if he sees this," she shrugs and yawns again, "Whatever, I'm too tired to give a lecture on it tonight."

The door shuts, and Paxson barks a laugh. "I hope you have a bathing suit for tomorrow," he says, ignoring his mother's warning.

"Does this mean you want me to go?" a smile plays on my face.

"Wherever I go, I want you to go," he pauses. "Well, maybe not everywhere." My smile intensifies, and hug him.

This is the Paxson I know and love. I didn't realize how much I missed him until now, or how much he drives me crazy until now. And I truly didn't realize how much I'm crazy in love with him until now.

But I think I'm finally accepting it.

Hi lovely people! Hope you found this chapter a success. Thank you for sticking around and reading! :)