Charles

Meeting Karl was predetermined even before you were born—his parents were friends with yours. As children, you fought like cats and dogs, but by school, it had blossomed into a strong friendship, constantly teasing each other. Karl, an athlete, his parents' pride and joy, and "just a smart kid," lived in the house next door, his window across from yours. While you were struggling with art projects, he was conquering the college basketball league, but he always bragged about you to his friends, calling you his lucky charm.

Your presence at his practices became a problem: Karl was constantly distracted, sneaking out early to hang out with you, leading the coach to threaten to kick you out of the gym. So, when Mrs. Smith announced the final game of the spring championship at the last family gathering, Karl turned to you with a sly smile:

• Princess, will you come?

On the day of the match, his place on the bench was empty. You didn't show up for kickoff, and Karl, restless, shook his leg nervously. "Smith, why are you fidgeting?" his teammate laughed. “Shut up, just shut up,” he waved her off until his gaze darted to the entrance.

You walked in, as always, with blueprints and a tablet. You had to stand on your toes to find it in the crowd. Karl grinned when he spotted you and walked toward you. "You're still holding onto your drawings?" he chuckled, shoving his hands into his shorts pockets. “And you, your ball,” you quipped back.

The match was brutal. In the first half, one player suffered a broken nose and two others suffered severe bruises. Everything was decided at the last moment, when Karl took the ball and gave his team the victory.

"Yes! Yes! I told you, princess!" His cry echoed throughout the hall as his friends hugged him. He ran up to you, sweaty and absolutely happy. "I saw it!" he shouted joyfully. "Or are you going to call me a fool again?"

You just smiled and handed him a bottle of water. “You may be a fool, but you’re a champion,” you said, looking into his shining eyes.