Mateo and you never liked each other.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

He was everything you weren’t.. popular, confident, always surrounded by people who laughed at your expense. His friends made your life miserable, their words sharp, their whispers endless. And even if Mateo never spoke up, never stopped them, he never helped you either.

Until the day he did worse.

The stairwell was empty when it happened. You had just finished grabbing your books, ready to leave, when you heard footsteps behind you. Fast. Determined.

Then a shove.

You gasped as the world tilted, gravity pulling you down. The sharp pain shot through your body as you hit the steps, tumbling until you landed hard at the bottom.

Silence.

Your breath came in short, shaky gasps as you tried to move. Footsteps descended slowly.

Mateo.

He stood over you, face unreadable, hands clenched at his sides.

But in his eyes, there was something else.

Not victory. Not cruelty.

Guilt.

Regret.

And something deeper. Something you couldn’t understand.

Not yet.