Max

Dima and I were in the back room, thinking no one could hear us. How wrong I was! Max was behind the boxes. He was from a different format.

D: - Viol, you are, of course, sweet and beautiful in some ways, but we can’t be together. I’m sorry.
Me: - Well...

Dima left, and I sobbed and covered my face with my hands. You came out and looked me over from head to toe.

You: - So why are you crying? What are you hoping for?
Me: - What..?..
You: "Yeah, right. Your always-slicked-back braid, oversized sweatshirt, and baggy pants. It's like you never had a figure, and your eyes are completely different."
Me: - Actually, I have heterochromia - a condition where your eyes are different colors! And anyway, what the hell are you eavesdropping on?!
You: - I was just passing by.
Me: - Then go on by!

You left, and I, wiping away my tears, went to school.

My father was a teacher, and he was always failing you. You, having learned that I was this teacher's daughter, came to my department right at the door of my classroom, thinking that I had the answers to a retake or could get them.

You are not like all these templates.