She hated him. She really, really, hated him. He was the most annoying prick she'd ever met and she would never submit to him, never ever. No matter what the other girls said. What did they know anyway? They thought he was cute!
He and his little gang were simply the most damned fustrating people she'd ever met. They didn't care about anyone else's feelings, of course, didn't care who got hurt, who cried...
She cringed at that. She was ashamed, that she let them get to her. That she let that stupid boy get to her! She couldn't stand him! The way he talked about her... the way he talked about anyone. He made her sick. She told him this on a regular basis, but he never listened, did he? He just wouldn't listen!
And now, with his lips on hers and his hands in her hair, she hated him more than ever. Because he had to make her feel like this. Because he had to make her want him. Because he had to make her change, and she really didn't want to. She didn't want to be the same as everyone else, slave to his charms.
She hated him, but she wanted him, which made her hate him all the more.