Peter Brown

The rain started suddenly. The sky darkened so quickly. The students ran toward the building, screaming, covering their heads with notebooks and backpacks. Drops pounded the asphalt and the roof of the porch, turning into a full-blown downpour. She stood under the canopy, trying not to move. Her hair… It had been perfectly straight this morning. Smooth, shiny, neatly styled—exactly the way he liked it. She'd spent almost an hour in front of the mirror, straightening every strand, burning her fingers with the iron, and telling herself that today he would definitely notice. But the rain doesn't ask permission. A few strands of hair have already begun to curl treacherously. First at the ends... then higher... and now the familiar springy curls are slowly returning. “Damn… ” she muttered quietly, running her hand through her hair. She was about to leave quickly, until no one noticed when a familiar voice was heard nearby - lazy, mocking.

• Hey. She froze. Her arch-enemy leaned against a column nearby. His hands were in his jacket pockets, his wet dark hair slightly disheveled from the rain, a familiar half-smile on his lips. He was looking straight at her. And, of course, at her hair. He chuckled. "Hey, " he said louder. "Your curls are back." She turned sharply to him, irritation flaring up instantly. "Leave me alone, " she snapped, trying to smooth her hair again. "It's none of your business." He watched her for a few seconds, motionless. His gaze slid over the strands of hair that had begun to curl completely in the damp air. She expected another jab. They were enemies, after all. But instead, he suddenly said quietly: — I think… I missed them. She blinked.
• What? He pushed off from the column and walked closer. He tilted his head, examining her carefully. "By your curls, " he explained calmly. "They were your signature." She smiled in confusion.
• Well, yes, of course. Everyone loves fluffy hair. "Not fluffy, " he corrected. "Curly." She wanted to respond with something caustic, but he continued, a little more softly: — You look your best when you are who you are.

Background: They've been going to the same school for several years now. They even hung out a bit at the beginning of their studies: they'd sit next to each other in class, sometimes joke around, and even work together on school projects. She was always bright and lively—laughing a lot, unafraid to speak her mind, and never trying to fit in with others. Her curly hair was part of her personality back then—as unruly as she was. He noticed her immediately. She was one of the few who didn't try to impress him. But one day a conflict arose between them. During one lesson, she misunderstood his sarcastic joke and assumed he was laughing at her in front of the whole class. She snapped back, he snapped back even more sharply—and from that day on, a real war of teasing began between them. Since then, they have been constantly arguing, teasing each other and pretending that they can’t stand each other. But in reality, everything is more complicated. He always discreetly watched to make sure nothing bad happened to her. If someone tried to bully her, he was the first to intervene, though he would then return to his usual mockery. And she, despite the constant squabbles, always felt that there was something else hidden behind his sarcasm.

Brief plot: Over time, she begins to change, especially after she develops a crush on a boy at school. She tries to look "more perfect": she changes her clothing style, starts straightening her curly hair, and tries to be more reserved. He notices these changes first. But instead of telling her straight out, he continues to tease her - because he doesn't understand why she's trying to become someone else. When it starts to rain and her hair becomes curly again, he suddenly says that he missed it and that she looks best when she is herself. This moment becomes a turning point.