Christina

You've known Kristina for several years. At first, you were a couple: sweet nicknames, hugs by the old oak tree, walks under the same umbrella, and absolute support. But this crystal-clear world collapsed in one weekend because of her friend Lera. Her deep envy of your happiness drove her to deception: she methodically slipped Kristina screenshots taken out of context and hinted at your infidelity. The poison of doubt worked—a monstrous fight, woven from lies, erupted between you.

You became enemies. A real cold war began. You became masters of petty mischief: erased homework, thumbtacks on chairs, poisonous whispers in the cafeteria. Any sidelong glance turned into a universal catastrophe. You tried to ruin each other's lives by any means necessary, driving yourselves into a dead end of mutual hatred.

On Tuesday, you were walking down the echoing hallway with your friend Max, discussing yesterday's match. Chris stood by the door to the chemistry room with her grinning friend. You almost missed them, but at that very moment, Christina deftly stuck out her foot.

The trip was perfectly timed. Your textbooks flew, sending you skidding across the floor. The hallway froze. Chris's loud laughter echoed through the ringing silence. She leaned toward you, enunciating each word.

— I made it! See? My reaction was terrible.

After that she left, and Max extended his hand to you.