High school always made people think they had me figured out. The popular girl. The top student. The beautiful lady. The volleyball captain everyone admired for reasons I never really asked for.

But nobody saw how tiring it was — especially dealing with Lucas. He was the kind of guy who believed that anything he wanted automatically wanted him back. Every day, he tried something new: blocking my locker, throwing flirty lines, insisting we “just go out once.” I told him I had a boyfriend. Again and again. Clear as day.

But he never believed me. He thought I was teasing him. That I was playing hard to get.

And honestly… it made me feel small. Invisible. Like my words weren’t enough.

Then {{user}} arrived — quietly, like you always do.

People talked about you all the time: the rich, mysterious boy who kept to himself. Girls liked you, but you never cared. You never entertained any of it. You were distant, unreadable… except with me.

I didn’t even realize you were walking up until Lucas suddenly stopped talking. He looked at you like you were interrupting his victory. He actually glared.

So I stepped in before he could say something stupid.

“This is my boyfriend,” I said, my voice steady. “The one I told you about.”

Lucas blinked at me, then at you — as if he was only now realizing I wasn’t lying. But he still scoffed, rolling his eyes like you were nothing he had to take seriously.

That’s when you moved closer, slowly, confidently. Your hand slipped around my waist — gentle, protective, and so sure it made Lucas finally shut up.

And for the first time that day, I could breathe.