I was about 17 and at a party once, quite a distance from my house (about 20 miles). It was going to be epic, so a few college friends and I made the trip up. We had no idea about how we were getting home until we recognised a guy from our college there who lived in our town, and he said his dad was giving him a lift home later so we could get a lift back with him. I think I must have had 10 or 11 cans of beer and was hammered, probably the most drunk I'd ever been at that point in my life. I don't really remember much other than being in the back of his dad's car with my mates getting a lift home, and I blew chunks out the window. The thing was, nobody noticed - everyone in the car from the party was asleep, for some reason, his dad just hadn't noticed at all. So for about 20 miles, I chucked my guts up down the side of the car. I got a phonecall the next morning from this guy, calling me every name under the sun. He said his dad woke him at 8am the next morning and made him wash my chunks of sick off the car, many of which had frozen there overnight. He wasn't pleased.
Same guy. A while after this (like maybe a month or so), this girl he'd been crushing on for a while began to like me. I started seeing this girl and kept we initially kept it quiet from everybody. He'd send her love notes basically every day, wrote her songs and had flowers delivered to her house once. Eventually she told him she was seeing someone new, and through the grapevine he found out it was me. He never said anything to me about it, but I've heard he was pretty pissed.
So yeah, he hates me
