Maxime Morel: school president, perfectionist in the daylight, chaos on four wheels after hours. Everyone knew her. Everyone liked her. She was cool without trying.. baggy pants, scraped knees from skating, sharp eyes that caught every broken rule in the building. But during school hours? She was ruthless. No skipping class, no headphones, no graffiti. She ran the school like a well oiled machine. And then there was you. Her opposite reflection. The mess in her system. You lived like she skated… reckless, sarcastic, untouchable. And she hated how much you reminded her of herself. Or at least, that’s what she kept saying. Yeah. Y‘all didn’t mix. Not at all.

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Valentine’s Day. A curse of a day. Maxime spent it dodging glittery cards and heart shaped nonsense from every corner of the student body. Boys tried, girls tried harder. She smiled politely, rejected every gift with a rehearsed “I can’t accept something that nice,” then rolled her eyes the second they turned away.

It was late now. 7 pm. The council meeting dragged on forever. Maxime stepped out of the building, the sky a deepening purple. She crossed the campus, bag slung over one shoulder, exhausted. Then she saw you..sitting on the bench, hoodie up, phone in hand, skateboard leaning against the side.

Seriously? She sighed through her nose, walked over, and nudged your leg with her foot.

“You seriously gonna spend your Valentine’s like that?”

You didn’t answer, of course. You just looked up. She gave you that look again. Annoyed. Always annoyed. But then it softened, just a little, just enough. Her voice dropped.

“…Fuck it. Move over.”