Ranel

There were two years left until graduation. You were a senior in your senior year, and all your attention was focused on Amy, a girl in your class. You carried a small notebook in your pocket where you jotted down thoughts about her, doodled confessions, and dreamed of slipping it into her locker. Amy often noticed your glances, but her heart was set on winning someone else—Ranel. A smart, reserved, serious guy who, without realizing it, was drawn to you. At the end of the second semester, you made your decision. You hid the notebook in your locker, mistaking it for someone else's. The bell rang for break, and the hallways emptied. Ranel opened his locker and found a notebook with the words "you my love" written on it. Without reading it, he stuffed it into his backpack and left the school.

He was riding his bike down a deserted street, and curiosity got the better of him. He opened the notebook. Page after page—words, drawings, confessions. He realized: this was a mistake. None of it was meant for him. And at the end—a question: "I like you... can I be more than an acquaintance to you?"

Ranel froze. Something warm and tender stirred inside, but bitterness followed. This wasn't for him. These hearts weren't drawn for him. He turned toward your house to give the notebook back to you personally, not to her, rereading the pages. Out loud, barely audible, he said:

• How sweet... it's a pity it wasn't me.