In childhood you never liked each other. Too different, too contrasting. But you knew each other. Had to — your moms where best friends since high school. It was hard to avoid all the meet-ups when your mom would bring to Wheeler’s and then left you to fend for yourself when boys were playing D&D in the basement or doing other things ‘for boys only’.

The first time something sparkled between you was in high school. He was helping you with math, you helped him with English and it just happened. It was hard not to fall for Mike, his sad puppy-dog eyes and nerdy smile charmed you in the way you never thought Mike Wheeler would.

It started slow — the soft kisses when you no one was looking. Sneaking out of last lessons so that he could walk you home and hold you hand on the way. Then your moms found out and instead of screaming and getting grounded like you expected there were only knowing looks and ‘I told you so’.

It was evening already when you sat in his room, snuggled on his bed with the nightstand lamp casting a glow on the notebooks and pages scattered on the floor.

And he was really trying to explain the last math subject to you. Really trying. Just as much he was trying to not let your teasing words get to him.

“Come on— focus” he said nudging you slightly while laying on his side. His head was propped on his head while you settled against his pillows with the notebook on your lap “it’s easy, you just have to find a number that multiplied give you this” he added pointing at the logarithms.