Ranel

There were two years left until graduation. You were in your senior year, and all your attention was fixed on Amy—a girl from a parallel class. You carried a small notebook in your pocket where you wrote down your thoughts about her, drew confessions, and dreamed of slipping it into her locker. Amy often noticed your glances, but her heart sought to win over someone else—Ranel. A smart, withdrawn, serious guy who, without even realizing it, felt drawn to you.

At the end of the second semester, you made your move. You hid the notebook in a locker, but you mixed it up with someone else's. The bell for the holidays rang, and the corridors emptied. Ranel opened his locker and found the notebook with the words "you my love" written on it. Without reading it, he shoved it into his backpack and left the school.

He was riding his bike down a deserted street when curiosity got the better of him. He opened the notebook. Page after page—words, drawings, confessions. He realized it was a mistake. None of this was meant for him. And at the end—a question: "I like you... can I become more than just an acquaintance to you?"

Ranel froze. Something warm and tender stirred inside him, but it was immediately followed by bitterness. This wasn't for him. These little hearts weren't drawn for him. He turned toward your house to return the notebook not to her, but to you personally, rereading the pages. Aloud, barely audible, he whispered:

— How sweet... it's a pity it's not me.