Page 1 of Hate Like Ours

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I guessclichés are cliché for a reason, because when you find yourself in a situation that’s one, you realize just how right they were. Let me start with mine…

The road to vengeance is paved with purpose.

Just like the road to hate is paved with nothing but destruction.

My own road to hell was paved with purpose, and that purpose was to hate.

I found out some secrets that I didn’t know about until it was too late, but by then, I knew my purpose was to hate her because of what she represented to me.

The road to hate…

Sometimes it makes you feel alive.

And then other times when you let go of your hate for a little while, well, then you realize just how much you fucked up and wish you could just take it back. But by that time, it’s too late.

My story isn’t a pretty one, but even though I hate her, she’s mine.



Salty sweat dripsdown the side of my face as I run across the field. The air is filled with tension, everyone in the stands waiting with bated breath to see how the next few minutes will go.

I run as fast as my legs would carry me, knowing that the guys from the opposing team are already running after me so I couldn’t make the goal. The jokes on them because I am a determined fucker, and no one is going to stop me tonight.

I just need to make one more touchdown for our team to win tonight’s game. I’m not worried right now because I know my team has my back. I keep running like my life depends on it.

Being the quarterback, as well as Riverside’s golden boy, comes with some heavy expectations. Everyone expects me to win tonight’s game, with no exception.

No matter how much of an asshole I am, and trust me, I am a big one, nothing I did is ever wrong in the eyes of our town’s people. Sometimes, for a split second, I would hate all the extra attention people showered me with, but that’s only for a second. Most times, it’s what I live for. I love being in the limelight, especially when it comes to football.

I am the king of this town and everyone knows it. I guess it helps that my father is a direct descendant of the founders of this place and no one wants to get on his bad side in case he incites the wrath of hell on them.

My father is a good man, but if you piss him off or fuck with his family or his business in any way, there is no telling what he’d do.

His family—The Riversides—were the founders of this small town named after them, and they never let anyone forget it, even generations later. It is such a cliché to name a town after yourself. Talk about being pompous.

Sometimes I hate the expectations that come with my name, but I can’t say I hate the things that come with being filthy fucking rich. I mean, who wouldn’t, right?

Three… two… one…


Tonight is our first Sunday night game. It’s the beginning of the last week in August and we have one more week before school officially starts for senior year.

The crowd goes wild as cheers erupt from the stands. This touchdown is the winning one, and I feel exhilarated when I hear everyone in the crowd chant my name. My teammates all come rushing over and throw themselves on me in their excitement at winning tonight’s game.

I couldn’t have done it without their help as a team, but they all act like I single-handedly won the game.

Football has been my life for as long as I can remember and I am damn good at it. I took to it from the moment I was old enough to play ball with my father, and my love and obsession for the sport grew from there.

“Get off me, assholes!” I mutter out to my three best friends. While everyone else has already gotten off me, these assholes are still here.

“Come on! You know you love it when we tackle your ass to the ground.” Axel snorts, taking off his helmet and smirking at me.

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