The guy I hate is the only thing on my mind. He’s the first thing I think about when I open my eyes in the morning. He’s the last thing I see when I close them. He doesn’t even leave me alone in my dreams. It’s worse than what it was at St. Patrick’s. When school was over, I got to cross the line and go back home. That invisible line between the south side and the north protected me from him. But now I live where he lives. There’s this constant awareness of him being around. My heart’s always ready to pound at the slightest smell of him. The butterflies are flapping their sharp wings, making
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