Middle school was a long time ago. I don’t think about it. I don’t think about her.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

It’s been years since I last saw Hana, since that one stupid moment where I let my pride get the best of me. I don’t know why I did it—why I pushed her, why I let those extras’ laughter fuel my ego instead of holding her damn hand like I wanted to. The memory pisses me off, mostly because I can’t change it. And because she never gave me a chance to fix it.

”We’re done.”

That was the last thing she ever said to me. A text. Cold. Final.

And now, here she is.

Standing at the front of Class 1-A like some ghost from my past that I never thought I’d have to face again.

I don’t react right away. My brain stalls. My hands clench into fists on instinct, trying to ground myself. The hell is she doing here? She was supposed to be at that other school—the one she transferred to after she left me behind.

She looks different, but not really. Same eyes, same face that I used to stare at for too long when I thought she wouldn’t notice. But now, when she looks at me, there’s nothing. No warmth, no recognition. Just indifference.

“Tch.” I click my tongue and look away, slouching in my seat like I don’t care. Like it doesn’t feel like a damn hurricane just walked into the room.

She introduces herself, and the rest of the class greets her like she’s just another transfer. Just another student. But I know better.

I don’t know what pisses me off more—the fact that she’s here, or the fact that after all these years, she still won’t look at me like she used to.