Chase's POV

Why hasn't the teacher paired me up with someone yet. Ugh. I just wanted to get this crappy project over with.

"Kris Anderson and..." I heard Mrs. Marin call the new fag's name. "Chase McKane."

What the hell?! No way was I ever becoming friends with that guy. Standing up I slammed my fist on the table.

"No way in hell am I gonna be friends with the fag!" I yelled shooting daggers at Kris as he rolled his eyes.

"Mr. McKane, I suggest you sit down right now! You are going to be friends with Kris Anderson wether you approve of it or not. Otherwise you will fail this class. And I also suggest you do not use inappropriate language in my class!" Mrs. Marin scolded, hands on her hips.

Just perfect. Life never goes the way you want it to. Whatever. Fine. If I had to work with the fag to pass then I will. I may seem like the type of douches who don't care about school on the outside. But on the inside, I cared about my education and I wasn't as cold hearted. But that fag better stay away from me, if that was even possible since we had to work together.

"Alright. For your first assignment today, you will have to eat lunch with your partner. Afterwards you need to exchange phone numbers, and you may choose whose's house you would like to go to. Is that clear everyone?"

Everyone muttered an unenthusiastic yes. Fuck this. Eating lunch with that guy? No fucking way. He was gonna ruin my image! Fucking teachers and their crazy minds.

I turned to look at Kris, he was staring down at his desk, shoulders slumped. Whatever, why am I even caring to look at him? Oh that's right, I don't. I just wanted to get this class over with and go to lunch.

As if on cue, the bell rang for lunch. I raced out of my seat almost making it pass the door, but was pulled back by my teacher.

"Where do you think your going Mr. McKane? Did you forget you are suppose to accompany Kris to lunch?" Mrs. Marin asked, giving me a pointed look. I groned. I forgot I had to eat lunch with him. I looked over to Kris. He was awkwardly standing at his desk with his head down.

Glaring at my teacher as she walked out of the room, I walked over to Kris.

"Hurry up fag. I don't need you to ruin my lunch too, seeing as you have already ruined my whole school year," I grumbled, heading out the door first. I know, I sound a bit harsh. Ok maybe really harsh. I just didn't like Kris. Well no, not specifically Kris. I just didn't like fags.

Kris's POV

I mentally sighed in my head. And just too seconds ago I was celebrating my advantage. This school year was definitely gonna be hell. I shouldn't have jinxed it. For some reason, life hates me. My life just keeps getting worse. I was not looking forward to eating lunch with Chase. Or spend any time with him for that matter.

By the time I reached the cafeteria, Chase was already sitting with his group of friends. All guys who looked equally mean and rude. But none looked as sexy.. I-I mean stupid. Yeah that's what I meant.

As I walked over with my lunch I sat at the corner of the table, as far away from Chase and his group of friends, as possible.

"Hey, what's the fag doing here? Doesn't he have a life? " one of the guys asked.

"The distgusting fag is my partner for this year's project. We are suppose to be friends," Chase replied, sending me a disgusted look. I saw him cringe when he said friends.

Ouch. That hurt. I guess I was too "disgusting" to be called his friend. Hang on... All this time I didn't even tell anyone I was a fag. How did he even know? Do I act like? Nah, I don't think so...

"Oh the project in Mrs. Marin's class? Wow dude. Your year's gonna be hell with that fag as your partner," His friend, whose name I still didn't know said.

The rest of the day flew by very very very slowly. Turns out, life decided to just pick me out of the 7 billion people in the world to hate on. Chase was in every single class of mine. I tired to avoid him as much as possible, which fortunately worked, as to see I didn't have any more run ins with him.

Sadly, now I couldn't avoid him since he had to go to my house today.

Chase's POV

This is just fucking great. Today, out of all days of school, flew by so fast. Now I had to go to Kris's house. Not to mention I had to hang with him.

"Chasey!" I cringed from the squeal in her voice. Bridgette, along with every other girl in the school always followed me around. Every chance they got, they would cling on to me and try to get their lips on mine. I shivered at the thought.

"Bridgette, I have to go. I have a project to do," I rushed out, getting into my car before she could say anything else or cling on to me.

I drove out of the school parking lot and found Kris walking already. Sigh. I guess I should drive him home.

"Get in the car fag," I yelled out to him making him jump. He turned to me and backed away slowly his hands up.

"I-I-I uh, no t-thanks I can w-walk," Kris stuttered, moving further into the sidewalk.

"GET IN!" I yelled glaring at him. Reluctantly, he got in the car, putting on the seatbelt, and scooting as far away from me as possible.

Surprisingly, his house was close to the school. In no time, we were walking into his house.

"You can put your shoes by the door," Kris said, pointing to the door. I rolled my eyes and left my shoes by the door before following him silently to his room. He had a nice room, I guess.

Being the guy I am, I layed sprawled out on his bed, hands behind my head.

"Uh, shouldn't you do your homework? And I don't know, get yourself off of my bed?" Kris asked annoyed, sitting down at his table and pulling out his homework.

"I'm relaxing right now, fag," I heard him mumble something that sounded like, I have a name and I'm not a fag.

Funny he should say that. I could tell when someone was a fag or not. And he had fag written all over himself. Not that I was looking. Because I wasn't. The thought made me turn and look at him. I could only see him from a side view. But I had to admit he wasn't completely ugly.

Groaning I sat up, grabbing my backpack and pulling out my homework.

"What?! I clearly checked the problem over and over. Why isn't this correct?!" I heard Kris cry out throwing his hands up.

I walked over to him, standing behind him while taking a look at his work.

"You didn't even read the question correctly, dumbass. It says 3 not 8," I stated, rolling my eyes.

"Smarter than he looks. Ok, gotta keep that in mind," Kris mumbled aloud, although I think he meant to say that in his head.

"Yeah, I am smart. Get that through your brain," I smirked, going back to my sitting spot on his bed.

"Shit, I said that out. Real smooth Kris," I heard him mutter under his breath.

After a few hours, I heard Kris get up from his table, making me glance up at him.

"Do you uh, want anything to drink?" He asked, sounding quite unsure.

"No," I said simply, returning to my work as he walked out the room.

I was just about to check my reflection in his mirror when I heard a loud crash downstairs. Rushing down, I saw him sitting on the floor, a broken glass everywhere.

Kris's POV

Stupid self. I cursed myself. Why did I have to be so clumsy. Now the jackass has to see me in my embarassment.

I hurryingly started to pick up the broken glass from the floor, before he could see me.

Sadly, he had heard the commotion from upstairs and had rushed down.

"Seriously. First, you're a fag. Second, you are such a piss off. And now your clumsy too? Could you get any worse?" Chase insulted, bending down to help me pick up the broken glass.

Immense annoyance was raging inside of me, but I let it pass this time, since he was helping me pick up the broken glass. At least that was a first step. Barely though.

"Fuck!" I heard Chase hiss loudly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked over to him, to see his finger was bleeding. He had gotten cut by a piece of broken glass. I quickly grabbed a tissue, wrapping it around his finger.

"Put pressure on it. That will stop the bleeding while I go get a bandage," I instructed, rushing out to get a bandage.

Returning quickly, I took the tissue from his hand and placed the bandage on it making sure not to put it on too tight, just tight enough to hold the blood.

"Thanks."

Wow. Chase actually said thanks. Hmm, an improvement.

"No problem," I replied, patting him lightly on the shoulder. He suddenly flinched away as I patted him, a look of disgust on his face.

"Don't touch me," He grimaced, getting up and leaving up to my room, probably to get his stuff. I was just left there sitting dumbfoundedly. All I did was pat him. Sheesh. He acted as if I was the plague or something.

Soon after I saw him rush out the door not, saying a word to me.

Great. Just as I thought he was getting better.

...

I had finished my homework after Chase left. It bothered me how much Chase hated me, and thought I was a disgusting fag. I couldn't wrap my mind around why though. It was just a pat on the shoulder. Being gay wasn't even contagious, although I was sure he thought it was, considering he looked like he saw a ghost when I touched him.

I was so lost in thought, I didn't realize it was so late until I heard the front door open and my dad call for me to come down.

"Kris! I got the job! Which means... Pasta and Alfredo sauce with your favorite, chicken for dinner!" My dad annouced excitedly as I rushed down the stairs.

"Awesome dad! Congrats!" I chirped, hungrily digging into the delicious plate of heaven, that was placed before me. God, did I love pasta! It's gotta be the best thing I've ever eaten!

"How was school today?" My dad asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Well, to start off my day, I was slammed into the lockers, called a fag, and bullied by this sexy guy. He's a total jackass. Then Mrs. Marin, my teacher, gave us a new project, which would be an all year round, kind of project. And we are suppose to be friends with, the person she paired us up with. To my misfortune, I got paired with that jackass," I babbled.

"Seems like you are already beginning to like this, new bully of yours, even if you haven't realized it yet" My dad chuckled.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Yeah, no way in hell was I "already beginning to like" Chase Mckane. I couldn't possibly like a guy like him, could I? No. There wasn't even a small chance.

"No way dad. He's a dick," I insisted, putting my dish into the sink.

"I thought you liked dicks."

"Daaaaad," I whined, as he laughed histerically.