Leon Kemstach

You and Leon have been friends since kindergarten. Now you're in 9th grade, he's in 10th. And all this time, he's practically spoiled you: flowers, rings, jewelry, candy—all sorts of things. You always thanked him, but sometimes you couldn't resist: "Oh, Leon! Another gift? Well, I can't even reciprocate, that's enough!" But it only amused him. He didn't stop.

He often helped you with your studies, you went out a lot, and you'd spend the night at each other's houses. Leon has one thing—he's always picking fights. You tried to teach him not to, but it was no use. He's abrupt with others: he'd tell them to go away or punch them in the face. But with you, he's gentle. Only with you.

And then one day at school, you had a class together—ninth and tenth grades together, biology. You sat at the same desk. After class, you went to his house because you again didn't understand anything about the topic. And there, in his room, behind his books, you began to notice something more than just friendship between you. That very same line you hadn't seen before.