I hate you, then I love you

By Ana Nicoleta

Chapter 1

The night that changed everything

Montana Max hated Elmyra Duff.

That was a known fact to everyone in Acme Acres, no matter how dim-witted or thickheaded they were. Well… there was one exception.

Elmyra was more unaware of her 'boyfriend's' dislike for her than she was of her own terrible animal care skills, and that said a lot. Anyone with half-a-brain would've taken the hint and given up by now, which only led people to believe that she was even denser than they first gave her credit for.

And as for the rich boy, let's say he didn't take kindly to her advances. Monty did his best to stay out of the girl's eyesight at all costs, but given Elmyra's natural stalking abilities, he proved unsuccessful most of the time. Then, after she'd already found him and there was no way out, the exuberant hugs, the insults and, later on, the chasing began, much to their classmates' entertainment.

But everything changed at the Junior Prom.

After getting a taste of his own medicine and realizing how much pain he caused Elmyra by cruelly rejecting her, Monty apologized, then reluctantly agreed to dance with her.

"Me and my big mouth," he grumbled as the redhead dragged him away.

He thought he had made the worst decision in his entire life and now he was going to suffer at the hands of a sadistic and idiotic sociopath. But, it turned out that the night had more surprises in store for the boy than he thought.

"Will you cut that stupid dance? You look like a moron," he snapped at Elmyra who was trying (and failing) to reproduce Buster's dance moves.

"But Monty, it's so much funny-wunny!" she chirped, tripping over her own legs and falling on her behind. But she didn't look disheartened in the slightest. Instead she broke into a fit of giggles that made Max instantly roll his eyes.

"Cut it out, will ya?!" he then proceeded to not-so-gently pull the foolish girl onto her feet and drag her away from the dancing crowd.

Once they were far enough from the other toons, Monty abruptly let go of her arm, then looked her straight in the eye.

"Ok, dweeb, listen here!" he started, but was quickly interrupted by Elmyra's delighted squeals.

"Oh, Monty-Wonty! Not even 10 minutes since our fight and you're already calling me those cute names again," she smiled sweetly, her tone sappy as always.

The rich boy growled at her.

"Can't you pay attention for one minute without being a complete cretin?!" he shouted in her face, his already getting red from fury.

"You're so cute when you're angry, did you know that?" she cooed, totally unfazed by Max's volume.

Slapping his forehead and mumbling a tired "why – do – I – even – try", he poured himself a glass of punch.

"Want some, freak?" he asked, stretching her a glass. But, for some reason, Elmyra suddenly looked sick to her stomach.

"Uh, no. Thanks, Maxie, but, uh, I'll pass," looking away from the bowl, she added "I drank sooooo much while I was waiting for you, that if I have just another sip I'll make a messy-wessy."

Meanwhile, something clicked in Monty's mind and a wicked thought crossed his head. So, the imbecile was going to puke her insides if she had another glass? Well, what if. . .

But then, any evil scheme he might've been planning came to a halting end. The image of the redhead girl, crying herself hoarse appeared in front of his eyes. The tight knot in his stomach that he felt while hearing those heartbreaking sobs returned and now he felt sick. He couldn't do that. He couldn't bear to see Elmyra cry again, knowing it was his fault.

All his plans forgotten, he glanced at his partner for the night. She was pointing at an annoyed Calamity, who was hanging from the ceiling, while laughing and squealing like some demented 5-year-old.

Sighing, he called her and gestured for her to follow him out of the gym. Elmyra happily skipped after him, ignoring the reproachful looks she got when she stepped on people's feet.

Once she caught up with him in the empty and silent hallway, they both sat down besides the lockers.

"Why are we here, Monty? The party is inside the gym."

"'Cus I don't wanna be seen with you, that's why," he responded dryly.

"Oooh, so it's like one of those really intimate dates, isn't it?" she asked in a whispery voice, batting her eyelashes at him.

Monty opened his mouth to remind her it wasn't a date, they were just partners for one night, but then decided to live it like that. He knew his words wouldn't have any effect on her.

There was a pause and the two stayed in awkward silence for a bit, before Elmyra asked the question that had been bugging her since the beginning of the ceremony.

"Why did you come so late at the prom, my Monty-Wonty?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, well, let's say I had better things to do than to attend this pathetic excuse of a party," he answered shortly, then returned to his own thoughts.

"Like what?" she asked again, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

Realizing he wasn't going to get away so easily, Monty reluctantly began telling her about Rio and the festivals that were going on there at that time of the year. Elmyra was positively thrilled by his description of the party and city, and demanded more details.

As the conversation carried on, the rich boy found himself speaking more openly. He told her about all the countries he had visited, all the parties he had attended there and how much fun it was. Monty knew that he was talking so easily because he adored to brag about the luxuries he could afford, and certainly not because he was becoming more comfortable around Elmyra. That thought alone, of them actually being friends and hanging out, made him scowl in his head. That for sure could not be it. . . Right?

As for the girl, she looked fascinated about all those places and listened intently, always asking questions and wanting to no more. Monty wasn't even sure if she will remember, but he still tried to answer them all. Sometimes, Elmyra would also mention places she'd seen, even if they couldn't compare to what he had.

After talking for nearly an hour, without either of them realizing it though, a slow waltz started to play in the gym and Elmyra jumped on her feet.

"Ooooh, it's one of those really romantic songs! Can we dance, Monty, pleaseee? Oh, pleaseee?!" she begged bouncing excitedly with the biggest smile Monty had ever seen.

He frowned at her.

"Don't make me hit you an anvil! I already told you I don't dance!"

"But you promised!" the girl whined. Then her eyes grew bigger, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout and her voice became so high-pitched he was surprised a window didn't crack. "Puh-leeeeease!" she begged one more time.

Monty sighed. "Fine. But just this once!" he reminded her sharply.

Elmyra, however, didn't acknowledge his last sentence and squealed with delight.

Once he got up, the girl placed his right hand on her waist and took the left one into her own.

Blushing hard, Monty snapped at her. "Is all this touching really that necessary?!"

"Why of course, Monty," she said, beaming at him. "Now, stop frowning and dance with me.

And with not another word, they began moving across the hallway, stepping lightly, trying to keep up with the music. At first, it was a little awkward, as the kept stepping on each other's feet. But, as the song carried its tune, their movements became more fluid and, before they knew it, the two were gracefully twirling around the corridor.

Elmyra was in heaven, dancing energetically and humming along, completely lost in her bliss. She proved to be quite good at it, much to Monty's surprise. The rich boy was also quite experienced as he had danced on special events before. He moved swiftly, taking the lead and guiding them to the end of the hallway and all the way back. His embarrassment was all forgotten, as confidence took its place. He had to admit that it wasn't as bad as he initially thought it would be. And if he was fair (something not so common), he was enjoying himself. . .in a way. . .

Eventually, the song ended and the young toons stopped too. For a few seconds, they still held each other, until Monty slowly stepped away from her.

"Well, you happy now?" he said as harshly as he could.

"Of course, Monty, it was the best dance ever, in the whole wide world! You really know how to impress a girl with your dancing skills," she said admiring him.

"Ah, it's nothing. I'm just naturally wonderful," he bragged, a smug look spread across his face. "You know, frog-face, you're not that terrible either."

Elmyra's face lit with pure and utter happiness.

"Really, Monty? Really? You really mean that?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said as casually as he could. But before he knew it, he was scooped in one of those exasperating, tight embraces and squeezed to the point of asphyxiation.

"Hey, hey, get off me, ya dweeb! Get off!"

When she finally let go of him, he needed a few minutes to catch his breath. He glared in her direction, to which she responded with a smile.

Rolling his eyes, he headed for the school exit. Some fresh air would be wonderful right now.

Elmyra followed after him, talking excitedly about whatever nonsense to which Monty listened and responded only for the sake of making conversation.

The night from there went smoothly, with only few casual insults and nicknames, and even fewer exuberant hugs. When the party ended and students started leaving the school and heading towards their homes, either in large groups or just in pairs, Monty and Elmyra took that as a sign to go.

Grovely, Monty's faithful butler, came to pick them up in the boy's long, white limousine. On the way home, a peaceful stillness could be felt by the residents of the car. None of them spoke a word as they were too exhausted to say anything. The sun was starting to show himself from under the horizon, illuminating Acme Acres. A dim, red light entered the car through the window, caressing their sleepy faces. The only noise disrupting the silence was the car's engine.

At one point, Elmyra snuggled up to the Monty, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Under different circumstances the brat might've protested or pushed her off, but now he was too tired to do that. Plus, he kinda liked the comfort the girl provided for him. So, instead of pulling away, he gently laid his head on hers, silently appreciating the delicate texture of her hair. After a few minutes, the butler pulled up to Elmyra's house then went to open the car door.

"Well, I guess I have to go now," said the redhead, getting up.

Monty grunted irritably, the warmth which surrounded him earlier being replaced by an emptiness he didn't like at all. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a new comfortable position. But, before he even knew what was happening, he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his neck and planting a big kiss on his cheek.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, wiping his face with his sleeve and making a disgusted face. "Why did ya do that for?!"

Elmyra just giggled. "It's my way of saying goodbye to my Monty-Wonty. Plus," she looked at him coyly "you must've liked it a little bit. Your face is all red and cute and adorable."

Monty's already blushing face turned an even deeper shade of red at her words. He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, but no words would come out of his mouth. It was as if they were stuck in his throat.

All he could do was watch a smiling Elmyra exit his limo, blow him another kiss, then happily skip towards her house, the morning wind playing in her orange hair.

The door closed and Grovely hit the brakes, heading towards the mansion.

On the way, Monty recomposed himself and tried to shake the inexplicable feeling the last interaction, the last night, left him with. He knew that tomorrow things were going to go back to the way they were. The chasing, the insults, the annoying, over-sweetened words, all of them were going to return.

Yet, something happened that night at the Prom, something he didn't realise yet, but was going to discover. And that something was going to change everything.