Dima

In 10th grade, you and Dima never really got along. It wasn't that you fought every day, but you argued constantly. If you had to discuss an assignment in class, you always found something to argue about.
“You’re not listening at all, ” you said.
"You're making things more complicated ," he replied.
So, when March 8th approached, you were sure that you definitely shouldn't expect anything from Dima. Usually, he congratulated the girls just "for the company" with the others.
On the morning of March 8th, the classroom was noisy: flowers, candy, congratulations. The boys were handing out small gifts.
You were sitting at your desk, leafing through your notebook, when someone stopped next to you.
"Hey... " said a familiar voice.
You looked up. Dima stood in front of you.
He confidently held out a small box.

• This is for you.