Looking at June leaning on his shoulder, Alex's thoughts began to drift, pulled backwards through time to memories long buried beneath layers of guilt and longing.
It was back in middle school—his footsteps echoed down the hallway as he entered the classroom. The early morning sunlight filtered in through dusty windows, casting soft golden patterns on the floor. He glanced around and noticed that June hadn't arrived yet. A small sigh escaped him as he quietly made his way to his desk and sat down, his mind restless.
He kept replaying the events of the night before—the fight, the blood, the way her face twisted in fear when she saw what he had done. He cursed under his breath.
Why did I lose control again? Why did she have to see that side of me…?
He had frightened her. There was no question about it. And now, he didn't know how to face her, let alone apologize. What could he say? Sorry you saw me at my worst? Sorry I looked like a monster?
But fate spared him that torment, at least for the day—June never showed up to class.
After school, he walked home under a pale gray sky, the cold wind brushing against his cheeks. His hands were deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk. The thought of going to her house to explain himself briefly crossed his mind. But he quickly shook it off.
No... I'll only make things worse. If she sees me near her home, she might feel unsafe. She probably thinks I'm dangerous. Maybe she's right... Maybe she should stay away from me. I don't want her becoming like me.
But the next day, she appeared in class.
Alex froze when he saw her. Relief and fear mingled in his chest. She hadn't stayed home. That was good. But he couldn't bring himself to approach her. Instead, he kept his distance, not wanting to scare her off or give her the impression that he didn't respect her space.
That evening, as he was walking home again—head bowed, lost in thought—he suddenly heard quick footsteps behind him.
"Alex!" a familiar voice called.
He stopped, surprised, and turned around.
June was jogging toward him, slightly out of breath. When she reached him, she smiled a little nervously. "I… I'm sorry I never got to thank you properly. For saving me the other night. I'm really grateful."
Alex's heart thudded against his ribs. Her words were sincere, her tone soft and vulnerable.
"If it's not a problem," she continued, "I was thinking I could treat you to a meal. Just to say thanks."
He hesitated, shifting his gaze to the side. "That's not necessary. You don't need to do that."
She frowned, not ready to back down. "I want to."
He sighed. "Alright. Just… buy me a soda tomorrow or something."
June's eyes lit up. "Deal!"
The next day, when Alex walked into the classroom, he stopped in his tracks.
There on his desk were five different soda bottles—grape, orange, lemon-lime, cola, and even a weird mango flavor he didn't know existed. He blinked at them, then looked over at June. She waved, trying to hide her grin.
At break time, he walked up to her and said, "Thanks for the drinks."
Whispers immediately rippled through the class.
"Did you see that?"
"Is something going on between them?"
"Did June finally charm Alex?"
From that day on, their bond grew. They would sit together at lunch, exchange small jokes, and even walk home together. Though Alex remained reserved, something about June's presence made his world feel a little less cold.
Then Valentine's Day came.
They were walking home under the soft hues of a fading sunset. The air was crisp, but not too cold. June had been unusually quiet.
Just as they reached the corner where they usually parted ways, she stopped.
Alex looked at her. "Something wrong?"
June's cheeks were tinged pink—not from the cold, but from something else. She looked down, hesitating.
Then, in a soft voice, she said, "I like you, Alex."
He blinked.
His heart stopped.
She continued, voice shaking slightly, "I… I'm not expecting you to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know. I'll wait for your answer."
Then she turned and ran off before he could speak, leaving him standing alone on the quiet street, stunned.
Days passed. June began to avoid him. She stopped joining him at lunch, kept her head low during class, and hurried out of the room as soon as the bell rang. It was like she'd built a wall between them, and it left a hollow ache in his chest.
Alex hadn't realized how much he'd gotten used to her—her chatter, her jokes, the way she always tried to pull him out of his shell. Without her, everything felt muted.
He decided he couldn't let it go on like that.
That afternoon, as June walked alone past a narrow wooden alley on her way home, a strong arm suddenly reached out from the shadows and pulled her in.
A hand gently but firmly covered her mouth, and a familiar low voice whispered in her ear, "Shh. It's just me. Don't scream."
She recognized it instantly. Alex.
Her panic subsided, and he slowly removed his hand. She turned around to face him.
There he stood—quiet, his eyes gentle but burdened, one hand in his coat pocket, the other brushing back his dark hair.
"I… I'm sorry for scaring you like that," he said, his voice low. "I didn't know how else to get you to talk to me. You've been avoiding me."
June lowered her eyes. "I didn't mean to. I just… I didn't know how to face you after that."
"It's okay," he said. "I just needed to say something."
He stepped back slightly, creating a bit more space between them. "About what you said… your confession."
June's breath caught in her throat. She looked up at him.
"I didn't give you an answer then," he said. "But I want to. Just… not here. Not like this."
There was a brief silence. Then he added, "Meet me at the bus station tomorrow. Ten o'clock."
June's eyes widened slightly. "You'll… give me your answer then?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
She stood there for a moment, staring into his deep brown eyes, trying to read the emotions hidden behind them.
Then, quietly, she nodded. "Okay. I'll be there."
And with that, she walked away, the wind brushing her hair gently as the sun dipped behind the horizon—leaving Alex standing in the alley, his chest tightening with anticipation and fear.
Tomorrow would change everything.