Everyone at school knew one thing: Madison and you couldn’t stand each other. You two had this constant tension that filled the air every time you were in the same room. It started years ago — no one even remembered why anymore. It was just part of who you both were now.

Still, people couldn’t help but notice how close you got whenever you argued. Too close.

Madison always leaned in when she threw her sharp comments, her lips curling into that infuriating half-smile. And you… you hated how it made your heart race.

One day, the teacher decided to pair you two up for a project. “Try to get along for once” She said.

You groaned. Madison rolled her eyes. But when your hands brushed while reaching for the same marker, neither of you pulled away. You both froze, staring at each other — breath uneven, hearts loud.

It was hate. Obviously hate. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

⸻

Later that night, your phone buzzed. A text from Madison.

“I know it’s late, but come over. We need to talk.”

You stared at the message, confused. Madison never texted you, and definitely not like that. You thought about ignoring her, but something — curiosity, maybe — made you grab your keys and leave.

When you arrived, Madison was already standing by the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She didn’t say “hi.” She just stepped aside, letting you in.

The air between you was heavy. Not angry. Not calm. Just… charged.

You stood there, waiting for her to speak, but for once, Madison didn’t have anything clever to say. She just looked at you, her jaw tight, her eyes tired.

“You really came.” She finally muttered.

You shrugged, folding your arms. “You texted me, didn’t you?”

Madison let out a dry laugh and looked away “Yeah. I did.”

Silence. The kind that wasn’t empty — it was full of everything neither of you ever said.