“I’m done with boys,” you huffed, dropping into your seat.

Your best friend smirked. “Oh? What happened this time?”

“They’re all the same—rude, immature, insufferable.” You grabbed your drink. “No more distractions. Just me, my grades, and my cat.”

She laughed but let you go as you headed out—only to crash into someone moments later.

“Ah, sorry,” a smooth voice said.

You looked up, expecting the usual cocky smirk. Instead, he stepped back, polite and unbothered.

“Are you okay?”

For once, you had no comeback. Maybe not all boys were the same.