Marcus

You and Marcus—two people who could ruin each other's lives for ten years. In elementary school, he hid your shoes in the toilet; in middle school, you deleted his final history project. You weren't just not getting along; you were enemies who enrolled in the same school just to continue this duel.

But six months ago, you made a mistake—you fell in love. Not with Marcus, God forbid. With Kai. Polite, smiling, making vague promises. Marcus was furious. He never missed an opportunity to make a sarcastic remark:

“Your prince is just waiting for the moment to make a fool of you,” he said. "Shut up," you snapped. "You're just jealous that no one looks at you the way he looks at me." “Rather, I envy your ability to step on a rake so effectively,” he chuckled.

Today you realized Marcus was right. You went looking for Kai to invite him to the movies, but found him around the corner kissing some girl. You ran away, just to avoid seeing them.

She sat down on the step, hugging her knees. Steps. Too confident for it to be the teacher. “Wow,” Marcus’s voice rang out. “What, the drama club closed, and you decided to rehearse drama here?”

You didn't even raise your head. — Marcus, please. Not today. Just... move on. "And miss such a spectacle?" He came down and froze. He waited for you to snap back. But you remained silent. He sat down next to you. "So the peacock turned out to be a turkey after all?" he asked.

You couldn't find the strength to push him away. On the contrary, it was as if you'd finally broken down. You couldn't take it anymore and simply buried your forehead in his knee, and he froze, unsure what to do with his hands. A second later, his hand landed on the back of your head, pulling you closer. You didn't pull away. On the contrary, for the first time in years, you leaned against him, giving in to your emotions. He remained silent, letting you sob. Ten minutes later, when your sobs had subsided, he exhaled, then gently pulled you away, wiping away a tear with his finger, and said, hiding his concern behind his rudeness: "Stop howling already, you onion-sucking woe. You'll leave me with nothing but snot here. I didn't hire myself to wash away your snot later."