Bad Reputation

Most people believe in love at first sight. I, on the other hand, am a firm believer of hate at first sight. And the hate is directed to only one person in particular.

The first time I saw Dominic Lockwood, which is precisely three months ago, was when I was unloading boxes from the rental moving truck and placing them on the sidewalk.

A girl angrily stormed out of his house, clearly upset, and slammed the door, causing me to drop one of the boxes as I jumped back in shock. Books spilled out of the box and onto the cobblestone pavement.

Stopping in front of her car with a hand stretched out to open the door, she whipped her head in my direction in a swift motion, her face stained with tears and smeared with mascara. "Stay away from him if you know what's best for you." Poor girl.

I didn't understand if it was a warning or a threat until a few moments after she left another car pulled up to the curb and a different girl stepped out. With high leather boots and a cardigan tightly wrapped around herself, it was obvious there was nothing underneath.

She hurried up the driveway and then up the steps to the front porch in a manner as if she didn't want to be seen.

It was then that I noticed Dominic standing on the porch with his hand on the door frame and leaning against it with his head slightly tilted to the side as he eyed me up and down in curiosity. And then he smirked.

The girl lurched into his arms, practically throwing herself on him as her nails dug into his dark hair. She planted her lips on his and hungrily kissed him, all the while his eyes remain locked on me.

I was frozen on the spot with wide eyes, my mouth gaping. I probably looked like a fish. Everything happened so fast. It hasn't even been two minutes since the other girl left and I haven't fully wrapped my head around what was happening and now this?

I snapped back to reality, my eye twitching as I dropped down on my knees and frantically gathered the books into the box. I felt bile rising at the back of my throat and I swallow it back. What a sicko.

Throughout the course of the next few weeks different girls came by and went, some of whom were familiar faces from Harrington High. I couldn't recognize the others. The only person I saw coming and leaving his house several times was Maddy Baker.

Maddy is the class president, cheer captain and probably the most popular girl in school. The teachers adore her and girls envy her. She is the epitome of perfection.

Now, you might wonder how I know this. Was I stalking him? Absolutely not. But was I watching him through my window? Obviously. But it's not my fault both our bedrooms are right opposite each other and it's also not my fault that he's always way too loud. The douche doesn't even know the basic concept of shutting his curtains or the blinds when he has company over. Free live TV show, right? Even better than Love Island I'd say. Note the sarcasm.

Light showers of rain are drizzling outside in the late afternoon as I'm perched on the same spot by the window that I always sit down to read or watch the entertainment next door.

A squirrel scurries across the lawn, its small figure completely drenched in the rain, and climbs up the nearest tree before disappearing into a small hole in the middle of the tree's trunk. A single leaf falls down but before it could reach the ground, a strong gust of wind comes blowing it away onto the concrete sidewalk. Poor bugger.

I wonder what it would be like to be in his shoes. Must be nice knowing you can have any girl you want with just a click of your finger.

Julie says that some girls at school keep a tally of which girls have slept with him the most. It's as if they are all competing to see who will come on top to win a prize. The list includes almost half of the cheerleading squad, other seniors and a handful of poor naive juniors. Currently, Maddy holds the top spot. She's untouchable at this point.

Rumor has it that Maddy and Dom may have had a little thing going for a while but Dom has a reputation to uphold and Maddy just didn't want anything serious so they called it quits and only hook up here and there.

Maddy is a very nice girl though. Nothing wrong with her at all. She's beautiful, smart and kind. And I can tell she likes Dom a lot more than she liked to admit. But as far as I know, Dom isn't even remotely interested in anyone else. If he wanted to sleep with someone, then he wouldn't go out of his way to get close to girls at all. He would simply do it.

A light knock on my door pulls me out of my train of thoughts.

"Hey," I hear aunt Sarah call out. "Is everything okay?"

I push myself off the windowsill and walk over toward the door. "Yeah, fine."

"Have you been sitting here for a long time?" she asks. "You look pale."

I take a seat on the chair opposite my desk and nod. "Yeah, I was just reading. I've been pretty busy lately with school assignments and stuff. I'm sorry if I kept you waiting earlier though."

"No problem at all, sweetie. I was doing work anyway."

She smiles and then opens up the folder that she placed on my desk. A stack of papers are stacked inside. "These are your college applications. You should start filling them out soon before the deadline. I'll be mailing these out first thing on Monday. Remember, you're going to need a good recommendation letter from me."

I blink a few times. "College application..."

"Oh no, have you forgotten all about it?"

"What? Of course not," I laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I mean, is it okay if I do it later tonight? I'm kind of starving right now."

Aunt Sarah lets out a laugh with an eye roll. "Of course you can, honey. In fact, you can do it tomorrow. It's Saturday night and you know what that means." She playfully wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"We get to order Chinese, make popcorn and watch a movie!" We both squeal in unison with aunt Sarah practically pulling me out of the chair and linking her hand with mine before we both waltz out of the room.

Aunt Sarah is the closest thing I have to a mother. In fact, she's more of a mother to me than my own mother ever was. She's been raising me ever since my mother spiralled down the rabbit hole ten years ago. Sometimes I find myself fantasising about what it would be like if she officially adopted me as her own.

One time, when I was about twelve years old, she booked us a weekend trip to Disneyland for my birthday. I was so happy that on the last day of the trip, out of excitement, I called her 'mommy'. Her face faltered and I immediately apologized, saying how it was an accident and I'd never call her that again.

She said it was fine and that I didn't need to apologize before excusing herself to go use the bathroom. I stood by the bathroom door with my ears pressed up against it, listening to her sobbing inside. We never brought that up again. Or at least we both pretended that that never happened.

And maybe, just maybe, it was better that way.