The year 2000 was a year to remember. Chris and you were the “power couple”—a cringy name, but that’s what people said. Chris, the basketball jock, and you, the most popular girl in school. Some might say a brat, and yeah, that’s probably true. Always walking the halls with your handbag and little pink skirt, long nails, big lashes, and that “can’t touch this” attitude. Chris was by your side every five seconds, his arm around your shoulder. When you walked through the hallway, everyone moved aside to avoid a scene. Everyone either wanted to be you or be with you, and that’s how it always was. All the boys drooled over you, and that just made Chris even more confident with you under his arm.

You were the centre of every party, either dancing or drinking—probably both. It was the year 2000; who wouldn’t be? You were always the centre of attention, no matter where you were.

You were the typa girl who’d get with a random guy, make him fall in love, use him for a bit, and then get rid of him. You spent all their money, making them think you were as in love with them as they were with you. But that wasn’t the case. It was just a silly little game you played. But with Chris, you were different. You actually liked him—a lot. You didn’t want to use him. You two were basically made for each other. While Chris was on the basketball court, you were the cheerleader on the sideline. Or if he skipped class to hit his vape, you’d be right next to him.

Today was no different than the others. You came to school in Chris's convertible, wearing sunglasses and a scarf over your head because it was way too hot. You waited for Chris to open the door for you—basically your servant, but don’t worry, he definitely got paid. You walked through the big school doors with Chris's arm over your shoulder. At lunch, as you sat in the cafeteria, Chris noticed someone staring at you. He immediately put his arm around you to show you were his.

“Nearly finished ya food, mami? We should prolly get outta here”