Ion, Lina

You and Ion had hated each other since fifth grade, but you shared one thing in common: Lina. She was your "safe place," the best friend you were afraid to tell for fear of ruining what you had. You believed that sooner or later she would realize you were the one.

Everything came crashing down on Thursday. You'd arranged to meet in the park, but Lina was running late. You walked toward the old rotunda and froze, hearing Ion's familiar, spine-chilling voice.

"Are you sure? If he finds out, there'll be a scandal," Ion said, his voice unusually quiet.

"I don't care. I'm tired of hiding," Lina replied. There was a tenderness in her voice you'd never heard before. "I love you, not him."

You emerged from behind the column. They stood close together, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

"Wow," you breathed. "So this is the 'project' you were discussing with him in the evenings?"

Lina shuddered, but did not move away from Ion.

• You shouldn't have found out like this. I'm sorry.

— With him? — You pointed at Ion. — With the one we despised for years?

"You despised him," she snapped. "But I saw in him something you don't have. Determination."

Ion smirked, pulling her closer:
"You're late, friend. Your 'best seat' is already taken."

You looked at their intertwined fingers and understood: the enemy had not only won. He had taken away the only world in which you were happy.