I Hate You, Now Love Me
Chapter 1: OMG How I h8t ur guts!
You could inquire or ask your great Aunt Suzette (Considering not everyone had an Uncle Roy); however, not one able (Or unable) body will reveal the mystery or much less, what exactly was between the Roxewells, and the Johanas family. They vanished, yes that mean’s disappeared. So as I said you could question anyone, at least the ones in Ocala, unfortunately for you, not one person can quite recall, neither wants to remember what happened that year. According to all the records, the photos, even the house; it was as if the two families simply, never existed. Their friends awoke and remembered nothing, the police? Ha! Don’t make me laugh! Nada, zilch, nothing... They were gone. Why? Who knew? All in all, this is where our story starts... at a rickety house on Maple Avenue, central Ocala... the house of the notorious Roxewells, and their medical family...
"...e...” hmm? What's that? "Jes..." Jes? What am I five? What do you people want from me? "JESSIE WAKE UP!!!" "GAH!!" From the kitchen of a small two story house, you could hear the Wathump! Damnit if it isn’t bad enough to be woken up now, I have to have it from my sister. Damn she screams loud. This was the first well, third conscious thought of Jessie’s hectic morning. It seemed the long ebony haired, teenager had become accustomed to this, on second thought, he still despised it greatly. Jessie was currently tangled in a mass of crimson covers threatening to wage war on him, all this early in the wee hours. It was the first cause of the dazed infatuation to his plain white ceiling; the second was the smell of toasty bacon wafting up the stair shaft just to the right of his door. It seemed the groggily teen had trouble with the mornings, those emerald hues of his dwindling on feelings of extreme disgruntilation, which is a word he had picked up when he was around seven, it’s being disgruntled in a different sense without being disgruntled to begin with. What had he done now? It was Monday and school didn’t really begin until around eight-ish... Yet he happened to be forced into an early waking. Alas, a shame for only thirty minutes before he had been off in Jessie world on his own ticket in Hollywood.
Presently, he was ensnared by his clingy covers with a scrawny sister hovering over him. Moreover if her voice wasn't scary her eyes were. The almond shaped golf balls inspecting her oldest brother. Jessie had always been the eldest, and the only good looking one in his family. His mother had the smallest breasts in the world, you would think she were a man, his little sister had those golf ball beamers with straggling mud colored hair, and last but not least the males in his family. Jessie was surely the sanest of the lot. His father always was working on some contraption and muttered to himself and his other siblings well... they were hell and a hand basket. The fact they were twins made it double hell and a hand basket. Each had that jet black hair which Jessie possessed himself. Only Jessie's was silken and neat while theirs like his sisters were all static shock, not that he didn't love his family...but they were careful... maybe a little too careful. The black haired beauty just had to let out a roaring sigh, which was almost as exasperated as his sarcasm was, before rolling his entrancing green eyes. Once again… it was time to click into survival Jessie, for his house most certainly was the most dangerous place on the face of the Earth.
Of course like every morning since the day he could think of anything else but poop, Jessie rose from the hard wood flooring, which he was sure was the cause of most of his morning troubles for such a hard landing. Just the thought of how much pain there would be later, was enough to make him groan in displeasure. His velvety face turned to the detailed closet, by now covered in aging stickers of all sort s of varieties. Mission one in waking up was briefed and completed, not to mission two… dressing. This was a rigorous process when you had a four year old sister named Monica starring at you and asking questions about your body, one’s Jessie rather not have answered. It was only natural for his little sister to be curious; besides, his whole families (Except him) were in line for becoming or were already doctors/surgeons/other. Jessie wondered just how he had maintained his sanity in this asylum of a house, when it was almost time to bring himself to cope with another morning of Family "Fun" time. It was quite easy to see that Jessie wasn't too fond of the idea; maybe it had something to do with two so called twins that just happened to be related to him. In this prison he was sure that he, Jessie Grimlock, must have been the nutcase to the rest of his…special family. It was also very hard to tell that he was even a blood like related to his siblings or in any event parents. The only trait was hair color, this was the only close resemblance, and curiously only the men in the family had it. The other proof just so happened to be the twins that followed him around school constantly trying to prank him, though, after years of rather trained experience, this seventeen year old knew how to watch for twinly signs. Maybe the ‘hell in a hand basket times two’ went for all people with twins. Was it something defective with them? With a family like this... who needed enemies? According to public standards Jessie was a survivor, almost as much as a war veteran.
Here was the second grueling thought of the hate filled morning... his enemy, that rich snob that lived on O'Reily Drive. That cocky heir to the Johanas fortune... Kylie Johanas, the biggest d**k to ever walk the surface the asphalt city. Jessie wasn't the one that started this rivalry mind you. It began when the dip wad started things with him. Like the notes in the locker and the pranks driving to the local high school. Of course being that fabulously rich a*****e that Kylie was he went to a private school. Maybe this hatred between the families had started with Jessie and Kylie, or maybe the situation was a bigger misunderstanding then it seemed, however it was strictly obvious that Jessie was intimidated by Kylie, and maybe the same was true for the lonely high class kid across town; then again maybe not. After all he wasn't the one who had to answer to the nick name of sweetums whenever his mother talked. Yet little did they know this was the beginning of a long... long tale. One that would lead them to disappear completely... and never be found. How can I say this you ask? Well you'll see. Now, over across town and down the millionaire row on O’Reily Drive, a similar awakening was happening to a sandy haired teen. His body wrapped within a down blanket of the purest white, and his room of marble and comfortable rug work.
"...e..." Kylie... promise me this isn't a dream. Tell me anything but please... tell me anything different. "Kylie?" It's not a dream... I really... I really want to be with you like this... Just how can this be? I mean, Je--- "Kylie!" The teen jolted up in a cold sweat; his cheeks a light rose on that fair skin. He couldn't explain it but those words... they kept hitting him. Almost like a report on the drop in the stock market. You see while lower class Jessie had been dreaming of something of Hollywood and babes... Kylie had been dreaming of that black haired commoner from down Maple Avenue... or as he called it "Wreckers Boulevard". Not that he particularly hated Jessie, but that jackass had been asking for it from the start. Jessie was a punk. He lived in a small two story house with four siblings and two parents. That was enough to tell the fair haired snob, who was the bigger one up the ladder. In this world money talked... and people walked. Jessie walked. He wasn't one to take lightly to actions of other yet, at the same time, neither was Kylie. Just from the way his plump little servant entered the room, he knew he would see that black haired rat. Their schools were close, and sometimes he would spot Jessie outside his limousine window. He rode a motorcycle... no helmet, of course proper and primp Kylie would never understand why... at least not yet.
The daylight that had invaded the luxurious bedroom within the Johanas mansion illuminated a lean silken body. Kylie gave a half hearted yawn and a nod at his beloved nanny with her snow capped hair and smiley wrinkles. The woman would leave him in privacy for the fair haired teen to dress, at least for a small while. This was his life, not to mention his busy schedule, one wake up... wonderful. Waking up was most likely Kylie's favorite thing in the morning... not. It only reminded him of the many irksome responsibilities he would have to manage with. You see once Kylie was awake his whole life was monitored, either by his body guard or by his father's hawk eye, with the help of surveillance. Not that Kylie was rebellious or anything, unlike Jessie, but... he was a teenager and with his life he guessed he missed a lot. You see he got the best and only the best. No take out for him, no way to have simple fun. Just money, business, school, and keeping up a false face. This however, over the years had hid his longing for a friend... or his questions on the outside world. Now number two on the list, bathroom and changing. When it came to clothes expect Kylie to have only the best in fashion, only the best in products. After all why be rich if you couldn't spend the money? Yet still, Kylie wasn't model material; in fact he was quite bland. Like any other lily on the lake of life. In his mind there was always someone who was better then him... Jessie. That raven haired boy with his long silken locks, and those devilish blue eyes. That punk who looked enticing dressed in his all black entourage with his many sparkling chains and smooth slightly tanned skin. Kylie snapped out of his thoughts.
Yes Jessie looked like a model for teen girls to squeal for but that didn't mean he was one of them. In fact though Kylie admired the ebony beauty he loathed him... for all he knew and was freely able to do. The things that made life a little bit clearer. Even Kylie, filthy rich Kylie, had a rough life. In fact life as a family heir was lonely... harsh. There was nothing that was his own. Only his rampant thoughts dreading the smell of cooking eggs that wafted up the marble staircases. Their cerulean decorations making it rich and pure looking. For this lonely kid, all he saw was himself sitting at the end of a long mahogany table, while his mother ate silently with her edicate and terse lips, while his slick, oily haired father yelled at his business partner over a small black cell phone. Never had they had one conversation... never before had he cared much for this life... this family. He was about to have a rude awakening.
Kylie’s emerald hues slivered over the numerous portraits reliving his long deceased family members. The paintings were carefully constructed and could easily be auctioned for tens of thousands of dollars; they were most certainly works of priceless art. Clear Water high was legible while in scripted into his cotton, sweater vest. The clothing item acting like a veil on the slim torso. Black and white plaid pants made muffled snickers at Kylie from their trimmed and neat status; ironed to be perfect in everyway possible. On the bridge of Kylie's nose was a pair of round glasses, which in turn enlarged his green stare, as well as, making that beautiful color sparkle. The whit long sleeved blouse under his sweater vest seemed comfortable... relaxing... condescending perhaps. Kylie's noble strides led him to a door. His hand hesitating on the knob, that's when he, for the first time, skipped that wonderful smelling food and headed for the limo. "Gherkins, to Clear Water High. I must hand in homework early." His real reason was a lonely void in his heart... a deep black hole that was slowly taking him over. That's when he leaned his fair skinned forehead, against the tinted glass window. Cold and stable. How he wished he was on the inside. How Jessie was. His oily blonde hair tickled his rosy cheeks as his dream reentered his thought process. Jessie was beneath him... it was dark; they were on some... strange island. Never had he had such a dream... never had he even dared to think of Jessie like that. How did he even know how his lovely muscular chest looked? Oh yeah! That game week, when Jessie deliberately pummeled him and then exposed his chest in front of people. Kylie had never heard of such a thing, yet he knew... that Jessie would never be weaker then him.... not like his dream portrayed. Never would he look at this royal beauty and gaze at him so fondly. No, the only way Jessie even noticed Kylie was if he had bugged him or on occasion gave him that cold ' Your times coming you stuck up a*****e' kind of look, however, this only proved how lovely Jessie was. So tall, and handsome... Wait?! Whoa?! Stop the train! Yeah he was ravishing... and bad boys sort of figure, but come on! He was a chick magnet! A male with testosterone. A regular primitive sex pistol. One, he probably wasn't into other guys... not with the majority of the female population marveling him and squealing each time he said 'hi' to them. Two, he hated Kylie's guts. Last but not least reason three; they were of two completely different worlds. His parents... no his society and future wouldn't allow him to love someone freely. Not him... not this rich b*****d feeling son of a b***h, with the superiority complex, and sexual confusion. Besides his life was already planned out... from his birth. Unlike Jessie... he had no choice. Jessie was free spirited, and able to speak his mind... able to take a chance and make a dream. While what did he have? Money, a mansion, an inheritance? What did it come down to when your life was literally nit picked?
What they both didn't know was that maybe there is more then meets one's eyes. Both of them had other sides that they didn't see, or refused to see. While Kylie was staring out that black window he noticed that familiar figure with his flowing locks, riding a PCJ-600 beside him. Though they knew who was in the limo and who was on the bike. It seemed Jessie could never quite see Kylie. Not that he wanted too at the moment. After a rough morning with Twinly disasters, a chipmunk sister, and two insane or just average parents... he wasn't up for any s**t that weasel, dorkwad could say to him. Maybe Jessie understood for usually he would lower the window and critisize his status, in which case he would lovingly. Well okay maliciously retort for him to ******** off and play golf. A cell phone hung from his neck on a silver chain. The light flashing yet in vain. It was completely ignored... almost all the way. Right know Jessie couldn't give a damn if Kylie was lonely or feeling like a marionette belonging to a puppet master. His life was the seven gates of hell and a tango with the devil himself. His body was perched on his speed machine and he really did look like a sexaholic, but in fact... Jessie was virgin, just like Kylie. Shocker? Hell yes. Embarrassing? Who gave a damn when it came to Jessie?
Right now the raven haired beauty was trying to sort out crazy life, as in living la vida loca, as in Angelina Joule, as in a certain father in his house’s basement right now exploding things (Most likely with special help from a can of hairspray and a lighter.). Upon escaping his kitchen table, which is the Olympics itself, this logical headed teenager had the time to actually sort through what little remaining sanity he withheld in this screwed up life. What with his twin brothers, an insane dad, and not leaving out his crushed little sister after he revealed that the tooth fairy was really the boogieman stealing her teeth because he was a crazed ***** with special privileges and benefits. Yes Jessie had a soft spot for his beloved yet, Frankenstein family. In the commoner’s mind he knew judging a human being by their looks or money was entirely wrong. Not when everyone was an individual. That was how this had started right? Kylie picking the fight on ' I'm so much better then you street trash. I am filthy stinking rich so lick my boots and give me head.' This wasn't what Kylie had actually said but Jessie was pretty good at reading body language. Besides being sarcastic and a pessimistic part time thinker... it was a way to relieve his stress on the world. By blaming society and Kylie was society as it came. Another scumbag waiting to happen. He honestly felt... jealous of Kylie... he had it all yet he still couldn't realize that he wasn't king of the mountain. He treated him and judged him unfairly... this was something that struck Jessie dead center. He was a nice person really, and even if he acted like a temperamental person, he was someone that many relied on for their problems. After all knowledge came with the territory. Jessie had a lot of territory, in fact in time Kylie would become his territory. Or Moreover deadweight in an adventure of betrayal, love, money, and family, more then either of them were prepared for. A battle of street smarts and hormones. A Battle to fix the two most broken lives the face of the planet would ever see; a game known as desperation.
Chapter Two: Not Now! Why now! You damn Uke!
The sound of a window rolling down screeched in Jessie’s ears as Kylie looked out on to the blacktop for him. The blonde somehow always managed to burst his buttons and make him lose his temper. The two other raggedy teen beside him snickered, though Jessie was ignoring the rich kid who was staring as if mesmerized at his luscious back. So what if he looked… so what? Jessie couldn’t hate the kid more.
“Hey Jess? You did your homework for English right man?” whimpered a red headed freckle machine. His right hand man and best amigo Max. The two went way back to the days of diapers and puberty, which were regretfully still going strong till another year. Where ever one was you could surely find the other, Max not being the one in trouble most of the time, anyhow, Jessie was getting aggravated, his left eye twitching before he couldn’t take it anymore.
“What do you want you rich ******** pig? Haven’t you seen a commoner before? Or are your brains drawling out on the stock market?” Jessie’s satin voice drawing the words out in tense anger for Kylie to process, every Monday was the same and he would call Kylie the same thing and he worked with the same anger of his damned mornings. Of course this times reaction was a bit different, it was as if the rich blondie was actually affected deeply by the words, however before the punk a*****e could respond; out came Kylie’s high pitched harrumph and he stalked away. A small smirk graced on his lips. It had been a dream… only a dream… so why was he crying? Why the hell was he crying?
“Jessie, temper! Temper.” giggled Andrea to the left. The only girl Jessie had ever really been interested in at one point was Andrea. Then again who wouldn’t with her long slim body and ravishing face with matching flowing hair? She was definitely beautiful… a regular Miss America. In time after Jessie and her dated they found they were more of friends and the punk and the princess became tight.
“Shut it Andrea and Max you need to do your homework yourself!” Jessie shot back with a slick grin and a hearted chuckle. Andrea made him feel relieved of his anger, and Max’ plea for a homework copying right made his day a little brighter… knowing he had them made it better… at least a little bit, now if he could only tackle the dreaded math period, hopefully without feeling guilt. Today however it seemed impossible; Kylie really did look hurt today. Come to think of it, he seemed rather upset, okay mega upset. Then again Jessie had given him a hell of a thrashing. This time he couldn’t blame his unspeakably horrid morning, with a double dose of twin dweebs on the side. Taking a shower in his household had to be a game of chess or something. It seemed that earlier that morning the twins had installed a little button reaction, which would make the toilet flush whenever they wished. Jessie had been in a nice hot shower, oh joy of joys when the water went icy. The look he gave those damn urchins had been priceless. A real Kodak moment if you happened to hear him wail on his brother’s that morning. GAH! Family! What could you do?
“Hey Jessie what happened to make you trash talk Mr. Money bags? Let me guess… snakes in the bed? No? Really?! Oh wait that’s right those punks did that to you last week. Was it the old fingers in the water glass? Not that either? Well what about the underwear in the freezer? Really?! Oh well if it wasn’t that then what was it? The toilet flush! How rank is that!” It seemed Max had been asking for it and once his buddy had given him that eye twitch he could visualize what horrors Jessie went through that very morning.
“Yo, both of you clowns chill and let’s rotate before we get a mark for being late… for the tenth time this semester.” Andrea always did this, all in vain might I add. You see the three always ended up late, it all depended on the day. Monday’s were the flame headed Max’s lost lunch day. Tuesday was Andrea’s overslept excuse. Every other day was Jessie’s original and all truthful excuses like, my sister ate my homework, or the twins crashed the car again, or even my favorite would you lay off and stop asking already! As you could plainly see, Jessie had quite a record. I mean it was huge! Somehow Andrea always came through and bailed Jessie out, such a good friend, on the other hand Max was always there expressing the term “Damn that was fun” about every hour or so, the greatest friend. So there they were just the three musketeers when the bell chimed rather obnoxiously through the public school campus. Suddenly though, Jessie wasn’t able to move till he turned around, just to see if the blonde annoyance was still there, not that he cared. Well okay maybe a little, or a lot. So with a swift scan of the blacktop he knew that the love struck blonde had left, only today, Kylie had left with the harsh words from the cruel, cold hearted Jessie.
“Hey man, come on!” A yell, a tug, and soon there was no asphalt left. It was replaced with solid metal lockers. A shame all of them were sky blue, another shame that the walls of the school were institutional green. That was how Jessie felt right now… That was how much his cruel words had affected him. That was how guilty he felt at that point of time. Guilt was something that wasn’t quite new to Jessie, the constriction of the heart, the rampant thoughts of ‘I should have done this, or I shouldn’t have said that’. Yes he was definitely feeling horrible. There was nothing however that could be done now.
“JESSIE ROXEWELL! ANDREA SIMMONS! MAX ROGERS! REPORT TO PRINCIPAL MILTON NOW!” Well, I never, thought Roxewell with a sarcastic roll of the eyes, followed by Max’s huff, and Andrea’s cute little giggle. She did have a cute giggle, awesome! No really strop by the Ocala Inn off US1 and hear it for yourself, though if you mention Jessie Roxewell I am sure she won’t know what in the seven hells your talking about. The fact that she’s seventy two right now might have something to do with it. She used to know Jessie and remembered after the accident. Nothing else though.
There wasn’t much to tell you. It had awards on the plain white walls, an American flag in the corner, bookshelves, a mahogany desk stacked with three files, office supplies, a computer with a printer equipped with paper, squeaky leather chairs, and one very amused looking Principal in a business suit. So after getting his eyes off the coffee` stained rug, handy work of Max, Jessie, Max, and Andrea all sat before their beloved principal for a long lecture, and a laugh or two. Or so it seemed. There was a dreadful screech of the chair as Milton leaned menacingly forward. A pen in her hand tapped furiously over Jessie’s file, as if to say ‘don’t even try it mister!’
