Regina George decides she hates you before she even knows your name. She walks past you, gives you a slow, judgmental once‑over, and you can practically hear her internal monologue: Who let this person exist near me? You answer her snide comments calmly, and she hates that. She expected you to crumble. Instead, you push back. You roll your eyes. You don’t let her win. No one does that to Regina George. It makes her furious. It makes her fascinated. It makes her obsessed.