A cat and a flower

The span from early middle school to legit high school didn't fix anything. If anything, it just gave us a bigger stage to ruin each other's days.

It was a rainy tuesday afternoon during our first semester in 9th grade. The classroom smelled like damp blazers and floor wax. Most people had already rushed out to the cafeteria or left for their clubs, but a few of us were stuck inside finishing up the weekly cleaning duty.

I was standing by the windows, aggressively wiping down the glass with a crumpled piece of newspaper, making as much noise as humanly possible. My eyes kept drifting toward the teacher's table.

Leeron was there. As usual, he had been elected class president... consecutively.

God I really can't stand his smart arse. Why does he always get elected as class president? At this point, might as well elect him as city president.

He was wearing his uniform perfectly, his tie straight, looking completely composed as he went over a stack of club sign-up sheets with three girls from our class.

"So if we want to open up a club for this level, we need to submit this by Friday, right?" one of the girls asked, leaning in a little too close to his shoulder.

Leeron smiled softly. It wasn't a huge, dramatic grin, just that calm, warm, reassuring expression he gave to literally everyone. "Yeah. Don't worry about the paperwork. I'll hand it in to the teacher's office myself before I leave today. You guys can head home early."

"Wow, really? Thanks, Leeron! You're a lifesaver," they beamed, packing their bags and waving goodbye.

'Lifesaver' my butt.

He waved back, his expression relaxed and friendly. But the second the classroom door slid shut behind them, his face went completely blank. He turned around, picked up his pen, and started sorting the papers on the table, completely ignoring the fact that I was standing less than ten feet away.

The shift was so sudden it made my stomach twist. It was like a physical wall had just dropped between us.

I slammed my hand against the window pane, making the glass rattle. "Hey."

Leeron didn't look up. He just kept tapping the edges of the papers against the wood to align them. "If you're done with the windows, you can leave, Zeanne. I'll lock up."

He sounded so mature despite his age. And that annoyed me much more.

"I'm not done," I snapped, walking over to the front row of desks and throwing the damp newspaper into the trash bin. I marched right up to him, leaning my hands on the edge of the table, forcing him to look at me. "Why do you do that?"

He finally stopped what he was doing. He looked up, his dark eyes completely level, unbothered, and mature. "Do what?"

"That!" I pointed a finger at the door, then back at him. "You were just smiling and talking to them like you're the nicest guy on the planet. But the moment they leave, you treat me like I'm a ghost. You don't even say hello to me in the mornings unless the teacher forces you to take attendance."

Leeron let out a slow, quiet sigh. He put his pen down, crossing his arms as he leaned back slightly. "I don't have time to play games with you, Zeanne. I have three reports to finish before five o'clock. If you don't have anything actual to say, just go home."

"I'm not playing games!" My voice rose, echoing in the empty, quiet classroom. I hated how calm he was. It made me feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but I couldn't stop myself.

"You treat every single person in this school with respect. You help people with their homework, you smile at the girls in the hallway, you're nice to everyone. Except me. Why do you hate me so much?"

Leeron stared at me for a long, heavy moment. The silence stretched out between us, punctuated only by the sound of the rain hitting the window glass. His jaw twitched slightly, a tiny crack in his calm facade, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I don't hate you," he said, his voice dropping into a low, even tone. "You're the one who starts an argument every time we're in the same room. You followed me to the library yesterday just to complain about the seat I chose."

"Because you took the seat right by the window where I always sit!"

"It's a public library, Zeanne," he replied, his tone perfectly logical and entirely exhausting. "There are fifty other chairs. You're just looking for reasons to be annoyed with me."

"Yeah, well, maybe I wouldn't look for reasons if you didn't act like I'm an annoyance just by breathing near you!" I fired back, my chest heaving.

I wanted him to snap. I wanted him to yell at me, to show some kind of raw emotion, to prove that I actually affected him the way he affected me. I had unexpectedly liked him since the start of our first year of high school, a stupid, unrequited crush that I buried under layers of hostility because I was too terrified of the truth. I hated him because he was the only person who could make me feel completely invisible.

Leeron didn't yell. He just picked up his stack of papers and notebooks, slid them into his bag, and pulled his jacket over his arm.

"I'm leaving," he said quietly, walking past me without a single glance. "Make sure the door locks behind you."

I stood alone by the table, my hands trembling against the wood, watching his back disappear down the dimly lit hallway.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***