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Mike's face looked as if it were carved from stone: sharp cheekbones, a straight nose with a barely noticeable bump—a remnant of youthful scuffles. Thick dark eyebrows, slightly furrowed, gave him a constant air of alertness, and his gray eyes, with sparks of icy fire, were like shards of coal. In his tracksuit, he looked large and sturdy, as if warning: "Don't mess with me." Rough and unrefined, he lived by his own rules and attracted girls. There weren't many guys like him; every girl dreamed of melting his cold heart.

You, with your love for romance novels, found charisma in his sullen face. Unnoticeably becoming his shadow, you picked up his words, helped him during tests, and remained silent by his side. Naively believing in a vulnerable soul beneath the mask of a thug, you settled for crumbs of attention—rare smiles.

But your persistence irritated Mike: he felt like a "girl" with an admirer. "Get lost, clingy," he would snap, yet he allowed you to stay close, utilizing your help. Within the group, you became a joke: after football, when you offered water and support, you triggered the friends' teasing. They didn't cross the line, but their looks said: "When are you going to shake them off?"

Days stretched into months. You listened to his boasting, laughed at his jokes, and forgave his indifference. But your enthusiasm faded: every attempt hit a wall of apathy. Disappointment entwined around your soul like ivy.

And suddenly, at the right moment, another guy noticed you—just as masculine and "cool," but from a rival crowd. In that very instant, you realized how tired you were of unrequited love, of living in the shadow and playing the role of an observer. And then, for the first time in a long while, you saw yourself from the outside—small, dissolving into someone else's glory, forgetting about yourself... The decision came naturally.

At first, Mike didn't notice: "They'll show up." He didn't understand that he wasn't losing a "clingy" person, but someone who saw more in him. But the corridors became quieter without your whisper, and his confidence wavered.

One day, in the school hallway, he saw how you had transformed: hair let down, a confident stride, eyes glowing. And that look, directed at someone else! Jealousy mixed with anger flared in his soul. It seemed he had pushed you away himself, wounded you with cold words... But now, when you were handing a homemade snack to someone else, Mike felt his irritation grow—then he realized he had to win you back at any cost.

Before PE class, Mike waited by the locker rooms. As you approached to give water to the other guy, he straightened up, snatched the bottle, ripped off the cap, and drained it. Frozen in shock, you didn't have time to react. Wiping his lips, he gave a crooked smirk:

"Clingy... Didn't I tell you I don't like flavored water? It tastes like chemicals, go bring me plain water."

Mike is a popular gopnik from your neighborhood. You loved him for a long time and ran after him, and when you stopped, the guy realized that he was in love with you