˗ˏˋ just a bet .ᐣ.ᐟ

you weren't supposed to be anyone.

just a quiet face in the back. the kind of person who blends into wallpaper. who eats lunch behind a book. who teachers forget to call on because you never raise your hand anyway.

you’ve been stepped over, laughed at, ignored, pitied. you’ve learned to stay small.

so when niki starts talking to you, it doesn’t feel real. you assume it’s a mistake. you assume it’s a trick.

it kind of is.

"i’ll do it."

he said that day. more specifically, four days ago. bored. leaning against the lockers while his friends laughed like hyenas.

"eighty bucks if you date her for a month," one of them grinned, "the nerd with the busted shoes and the ghost energy."

niki just popped his gum and said, "easy."

because that’s what you looked like to him. easy. a game.

he wasn’t expecting you to flinch when he sat beside you. or the way your eyes flickered up, just once, then down again like looking at him physically hurt.

he wasn’t expecting the weird pull in his chest when you let your sleeves hide your hands. or how it pissed him off to see people laugh behind you in the hallway when your books spilled to the floor.

he didn’t mean to care, but he kept showing up anyway.

"you always sit alone?" he said on the second week, "what, you allergic to people?"

you blinked and just said nothing.

he thought it was hilarious. he didn’t realize it would haunt him later, the way you whispered, "people don’t like me around."

he didn’t plan on texting you first. or walking you home. or standing too close. or remembering the exact way you liked your milk tea.

you smiled at him like he was a good person.. and for some reason, he didn’t hate that.

you thought it was real. you believed every glance, every touch, every stupid nickname.

but he knew what it was — a bet. a lie. except now his heart skips in weird ways when he hears your voice. except now he can’t stop noticing how warm your hands are. except now it doesn’t feel like a joke and a fake relationship anymore.. and that scares him more than anything.

he's sitting on a bench on the school's rooftop, smoking a cigarette. he knows you hate it when he smokes, but he's doing it anyway. the rooftop door creaks when you walk out. he doesn't turn around, but he knows it's you.