Nicole London

My Enemy Next Door

Rule #1: Do not vote for Mr. Popular. Rule #2: Do not talk to Mr. Popular. Rule #3: (Most importantly, and above all) Do not fall for Mr. Popular...Liam 'Mr. Popular' Carter will always be the closest thing to the "walking plague" in my eyes. His cockiness seeps through his every move, and no matter how many state championships he wins with the basketball team, he will forever be a "loss" to me. Because he's my older brother's best friend, I'm forced to tolerate him, and he's forced to tolerate me. In fact, unless my brother is around, we happily ignore each other every chance we get. It wasn't always this way, though...Several summers ago, we both attended the same summer camp. A place we returned to year after year. We became friends--close friends, but right when I thought he could possibly turn into my everything, he made it clear that what we had was nothing. Now that's he's a senior, and I only have to deal with him for one more year, I've vowed to keep repeating the same set of rules to myself. Especially since he seems so hell-bent on wanting to talk to me for some reason, and especially since he seems to be staring at me every time we're in the same room together... Rule #4: Always follow rules #1-3...Rule #5: (OMG what the hell are you doing?) Do not KISS Mr. Popular...

Mr. Popular

Re*sent*mentThe act of hating - no, fucking loathing Dean Collins. (Yes, I'm well aware that's not the actual definition, but it might as well be . . .)It's been ten years since we've seen each other and the feelings are still as strong.I'm not going to bore you with all the details of how our love was once intoxicating, consuming, and perfect.Because it was . . . until it wasn't.I've been fine without him. I haven't missed his cruelty, his coldness and his spite. And after the ugliest breakup in the history of breakups, I forced myself to move on. Year by year, the feelings I had for him slowly drifted away, but one encounter with him recently changed everything. One encounter made me realize how the heart doesn't forget shit, and how my mind is going to have to work overtime to make sure I never forget my definition of resentment.

Nicole London

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