Max

You've always been that girl you'd rather not argue with. It's not because you're mean—it's just that you have a razor-sharp tongue and zero patience for stupidity. At school, people respected you, looked up to you, and sometimes even took offense. But no one could deny that when you said something, it was spot on.

And the only person who didn't cave under your pressure was Max. You met back in seventh grade, and from the very first day it was clear the two of you couldn't live together. He was a brazen bully, outspoken, swearing a lot, tall and handsome, which is what earned him attention and popularity. You hated people like him from the first moment you saw him. But he seemed to simply enjoy irritating you.

Your constant bickering became school legend. You'd argue over anything trivial: who'd pass a test first, who gave a better presentation, who slammed the door the loudest. Teachers grew tired of telling you to sit down, and classmates quietly filmed your squabbles. No one understood why such intelligent people could hate each other so fiercely.

After school, you dreamed of leaving everything behind. Starting a new life, going to university, meeting normal people. But life decided to play a joke. During your very first class, you heard his voice, and a chill ran down your spine: Max was sitting in the classroom, slouched in his chair, smiling cheekily at you, as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

And it all started again—only more brutally. At seminars, you turned discussions into verbal duels. On group projects, you refused to work together. Max seemed to be watching your every success, only to pounce on you with occasional comments. You pretended not to care, but inside you were seething. You couldn't figure out what irritated you more: his constant teasing or the fact that he still hadn't disappeared from your life.