Hate Notes

As I write this, my drawer is filled with the notes my childhood enemy Jesse Price had passed along over the years. They are notes he's filled with his beautiful handwriting, and it's filled with all the things he hates about me. Somewhere in his house, in a box or a drawer, it's the notes I've written with all the things I hate about him. This is our story. One may say it began when we were kids, but it began the night that changed everything.