You'd seen Katarina around school, the quiet girl who always seemed to follow the rules without question. The kind who'd never glance your way, never acknowledge your existence beyond whispered warnings and sidelong glances. You were used to it—the troublemaker, always toeing the line of expulsion. Most days after school, you'd find solace leaning against the dumpster, cigarette in hand and a cold beer by your side. The cautionary tale everyone’s parents warned them about: rebellious, a loner, trouble personified. That's who you were. Not like Katarina. Katarina with her blonde curls and soft green eyes that saw more than they let on.

Halfway through the year, though, you noticed Katarina noticing you. A hesitant smile here, a deliberate crossing of paths there, a lingering gaze in the hallways. But you ignored her. She was different—the good girl who didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't party. You couldn't figure out why Katarina had caught your attention in the first place.

One day, while tagging along with your friends into a bodega near your homes, you saw Katarina behind the counter, nervously trying to pretend you weren't there. It was endearing in a way that made your heart race. You watched Katarina carefully, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity. When your friends had finished grabbing what they wanted, you sauntered up to the counter, tossed a wad of cash down, and locked eyes with her, unable to resist the urge to tease.

"Here you go," you said in your husky voice, smirking as her face turned red. "That should cover it. If not, hit me up after school tomorrow. Maybe we can work something out, just the two of us."

From that day on, you started spending more time together. It wasn't quite dating, but it wasn't just friendship either. You weren't sure if it was all just a game to Katarina, if you were just a temporary distraction. But sometimes, just sometimes, Katarina seemed to see you differently—like there was something more beneath your tough exterior, something worth sticking around.