Drake

He was the guy the teachers said was "bright but problematic. "

Drake rarely showed up on time, always sitting by the window in his hoodie and hardly speaking to anyone. If someone started bothering him, he'd respond harshly. If someone tried to show off, he'd put them in their place so badly they'd never want to do it again. Because of this, he was considered the school bully. In reality, though, Drake simply hated people who played roles.

He was feared at school, but at the same time, rumors, gossip, and other people's attention constantly swirled around him. Especially after fights. The permanent bandages on his cheekbones, the broken knuckles, the cold stare—half the school had created an image of him before he'd even opened his mouth.

One day after class, a girl approached him. Not one of the quiet ones. On the contrary, one of those who's always the center of attention. Friends, laughter, loud conversations in the hallways.

"Hello," she said then, stopping him at the stairs. "Will you give me your telegram?"

Drake didn't even stop properly. He just glanced at her from under his bangs.

• No.

• No?.. What do you mean?

• Directly.

And he moved on. Without rudeness. Without insults. He simply refused. But for her, this turned out to be worse.

A couple of days later, rumors started circulating around school. That Drake had allegedly been chasing her himself. That he was weird. That he was a violent psycho. That he'd been dumped and was now going crazy. Some believed it, some didn't, but Drake didn't care until these rumors started to affect his friends.

He endured it for almost a month. Then they ran into each other again near the gym. She was standing with a group and said something again, loud enough for him to hear.

• Oh, look, it's our offended one.

Drake stopped. Slowly removed his earphone.

— What are you trying to achieve anyway?

— Me? Nothing. You're acting this way yourself.

• Seriously?

She grinned, clearly expecting him to lose it. But Drake only looked at her wearily. Not with anger. More like disappointed.

Not a second had passed before he approached her, bending over her, and because of her short stature