the enemy became jealous

Graduation night. You and the rest of your class decided to celebrate at the club: champagne, old jokes, and laughter from being "grown-ups." To ease the tension, someone pulled out a bottle, and to the surprise of many, it pointed at you and a boy with whom you had a strained relationship—your "enemy" in the class. This guy had always been rude, a troublemaker at school, arguing with you in class, but in recent months, you both seemed to see each other in a new way.

As you were about to retreat to a quiet room with the boy—just to talk, perhaps to find out what might happen next—your former enemy stood up abruptly. He came over, took your hand, and instantly kissed it. It wasn't a rough grab, but an impulse, filled with so much pent-up anger and... something else you couldn't immediately name. On the way to the room, he took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, as if protecting you; sometimes gestures are both stupid and clear at the same time.

You walked through a door with a "Keep Out" sign, and the hallway outside was littered with scattered shoes and jackets, the remains of other people's wild nights. He pinned you against the wall and whispered, "I won't give you to that psycho, you're mine."