The lockers always smelled like a mix of floor wax and old sneakers, a mundane scent that usually grounded Mark Johnson. But today, the air felt heavy.
"I’ve liked you since the eighth grade, Mark. Please... will you go out with me?"
The girl standing in front of him—a former classmate from middle school—was trembling. She had her eyes shut tight, her hands clutching the hem of her blazer. It was a scene straight out of a romance manga, the kind that made Mark’s friends hoot and holler.
Mark, however, felt nothing. No spark, no racing heart, just a hollow sense of confusion.
"I’m sorry," he said, his voice steady but not unkind. "I don’t really... get it. Love, I mean. I don't think I can give you what you’re looking for."
He watched her shoulders slump as she whispered an apology and hurried away. Mark leaned back against his locker, staring at the ceiling. Am I broken? he wondered. It wasn't that he was mean; it was just that the "language" of romance sounded like static to him.
The Mirror
He saw her ten minutes later, near the back staircase of the east wing.
Melissa Daphne. She was a second-year, a star member of the Student Council, and arguably the most admired girl in school. She was "Perfect Melissa"—top of her class, flawlessly polite, and perpetually out of reach.
A third-year boy was currently pouring his heart out to her. Mark tried to look away, feeling like an intruder, but something stopped him. Melissa wasn't blushing. She wasn't even looking at the boy’s eyes. She was looking through him.
"I’m honored by your feelings," Melissa said, her voice like a cool breeze. "But I have no intention of falling in love. Not now, and perhaps not ever. I hope you understand."
The boy left, looking more confused than rejected. Melissa stayed there for a moment, her perfect posture sagging just an inch. She sighed—a heavy, exhausted sound that echoed Mark’s own inner thoughts.
"It’s exhausting, isn't it?" Mark said before he could stop himself.
Melissa spun around, her eyes sharpening. "How long have you been standing there, Freshman?"
"Long enough to know we’re both lying to people," Mark replied, stepping out of the shadows. "You’re not 'too busy' for love. You just don't see the point of it either."
The Pact
Melissa studied him for a long beat. Most people flinched under her gaze, but Mark just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking back with a dull sort of recognition.
"You're Mark Johnson," she said, her voice losing its icy edge. "I heard about you. You turned down a very popular girl last week without blinking."
"I didn't see a reason to blink," Mark muttered.
A small, genuine smile touched Melissa’s lips—the first real expression Mark had ever seen on her. "Finally. Someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a prize to be won or a statue to be worshipped."
They ended up sitting on the stairs, the afternoon sun casting long, orange shadows across the linoleum. For the first time, Mark didn't feel like an alien. He felt like he’d found a translator. They talked about the pressure to be "normal," the strangeness of heartbeats skipping, and the quiet comfort of just existing without the "theatrics" of romance.
As the bell rang for the final sweep of the building, Melissa stood up and smoothed her skirt. She looked down at Mark with an intense, searching expression.
"I like you, Mark. Not like that—but I like how you think," she said. "I want you around. But I have one condition."
Mark looked up. "What is it?"
"I want to be close to you, but you must promise me one thing: Do not fall in love with me." She tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "If you can promise that we will never become 'that' kind of complicated, I’ll be your best friend. I'll even make you my Campaign Manager for the upcoming election."
Mark didn't even hesitate. The idea of a relationship without the messy, confusing expectations of "love" sounded like a sanctuary.
"I promise," Mark said, reaching out to shake her hand. "I won't fall for you, Melissa."
Melissa’s hand was warm, but her grip was firm, sealing a deal that both of them truly believed they could keep.
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and then Add to home screen.