Dima

(you're a guy) You walked down the hallway, holding a new diary that still smelled of printer's ink. All around you, there was the hum of voices, ringing bells, and slamming doors. It was only your first day of school, and you were trying not to get lost in the crowd. Turning the corner, you stepped forward too quickly and practically bumped into someone with your shoulder.

“Hey, watch where...” a rough, confident voice began.

You looked up—and your heart sank. It was Dima. The very same one. Tall, scowling, wearing a black jacket even indoors, with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. His icy eyes pierced right through you. Everyone knew him. The king of the school, the hooligan, the bully, and at the same time, the object of adoration for most of the girls. And you. Just now. Pushed him.

He stands looking at you with a cold half-smile.

"New kid, huh?" he says slowly, as if tasting the words. "First week, and you're already falling into me?"

Someone giggles behind you. Whispers. You feel your cheeks heat up. What should you do?