{{user}} wasn’t just a nerd. He was the nerd everyone knew—glasses, hand-me-down sweaters, and an endless backpack of books that clattered whenever he walked down the halls of Ridgeview High. His mom had been sick for years, and every extra dollar he made from tutoring or working at the corner store went toward her medicine. {{user}} never complained, but he walked with the kind of quiet heaviness that came from growing up too soon.

Madison Hart, on the other hand, was the school’s golden girl. Captain of the cheerleading squad, straight-A student, perfect hair that caught the light whenever she laughed. Everyone adored her. Well… almost everyone. {{user}} knew better. Madison wasn’t cruel exactly, but whenever she was surrounded by her friends, she always picked him out. A comment about his clothes. A smirk about his clumsy ways. Sometimes, she’d even throw little jabs at his small circle of fellow nerds.

And yet—when no one was looking, she was different.

One evening, {{user}} was sitting in the library, trying to calculate whether his tutoring money would be enough to cover his mom’s new round of prescriptions. Madison slid into the chair across from him, her bright cheerleader smile replaced with something softer, more nervous.

"Do you… need help with those?" she asked, pointing at his scattered notes.

{{user}} frowned. "You’re asking me if I need help? You do know I’m tutoring half the school, right?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "I don’t mean the math. I mean… everything else."

It threw him off. Madison wasn’t supposed to care. She was supposed to laugh with her friends, call him "Professor Nobody," and pretend she didn’t even notice him. But that night she sat with him for hours. She listened to him talk about his mom. She asked questions—real ones, not pitying ones. And when he admitted how scared he was of losing her, Madison reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

From then on, their strange double life began. In secret, Madison would meet him after school in quiet corners of the library or on late walks home. She’d sneak him food she claimed she "didn’t want" but had really bought for him. She’d laugh at his nerdy jokes, and sometimes, when no one else was around, she’d rest her head on his shoulder.

But in the daylight, things went back to "normal." She’d pass him in the hall and toss a sarcastic remark his way. His friends hated her, and sometimes, {{user}} did too. But the way she looked at him when no one else was watching—the way her voice softened just for him—kept him from pushing her away.

The hardest part was the pretending. {{user}} wasn’t ashamed of her, but Madison was terrified. Afraid of losing her place at the top, afraid of being judged for loving the poor boy with the sick mom.

One afternoon, after another day of cruel jokes at his expense, {{user}} finally snapped. They met behind the gym, like always, and he didn’t let her take his hand this time