Just like that summer. Our secret summer. The semester was coming to an end, and the anticipation of summer break was beginning to build. After this vacation, I would be entering my final year of high school.
On the last week of the semester, I mustered up the courage to make my final confession to Andrew. My heart was pounding as I entered the classroom, glancing around to ensure that no one was watching me. Carefully, I slipped a note into his book, which was displayed on top of his desk. It was during P.E. class, and everyone was outside exercising. I managed to come up with an excuse to visit the clinic, and surprisingly, the P.E. teacher believed me.
From this day forward, I was prepared to accept whatever the outcome would be. I had already braced myself for the worst, but a small ounce of hope still lingered in my heart.
Unfortunately, my grades had suffered due to my intense focus on chasing after Andrew. I made a promise to myself that in the next school year, I would do my best to regain my academic focus. I needed to prioritize my studies and aim for a free scholarship to a prestigious university.
After school, I anxiously waited on the rooftop for him. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow across the sky, while a gentle breeze played with my hair, sending a soft chill down my spine. As I stood there, lost in my thoughts, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the stairs. I turned around and saw Andrew.
His expression was a mix of confusion and irritation as he confronted me. "Did you write this?" he asked, crumpling the note I had written, the one asking him to meet me on the rooftop.
Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to speak. "Yes, Andrew," I began, my voice filled with a mix of hope and apprehension.
He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration evident in his eyes. "Aren't you tired of this?" he sighed, his words laced with a hint of weariness.
As I locked eyes with him, his frustration and weariness became more apparent. His words echoed in my mind, causing a wave of doubt to wash over me. How did I become like this? Was it fair for me to keep pushing my feelings onto him?
In that moment, a rush of guilt washed over me. I realized that I had been so consumed by my own desires and emotions that I had failed to consider his feelings. I felt a deep sense of remorse for the years I had spent bothering him, for not taking into account the toll it may have taken on him.
Tears began to welled up in my eyes as I realized the weight of my actions. I had been so focused on my own desires that I had neglected the impact it had on him. In that moment, I knew it was time to let go and give him the space he needed.
"What now?" He rolled his eyes, visibly irritated at the sight of me.
"I-I have something to tell you," I stammered, trying to steady my nerves as I made my final decision.
"Can't you see I'm busy?" He crossed his arms, impatiently awaiting my response. "I don't have all day."
I gathered my courage and took a deep breath, "I've decided to stop loving you!"
Andrew grinned. "Finally, goodbye then!"
"Aren't you going to ask me why?" I blurted out without thinking; those words escaped my mouth. Still, my heart is breaking under his cold demeanor.
"Why should I? I've never shown any interest in you. You know that, right?" He shrugged, once again breaking my heart without a second thought.
"I'm seeing someone else now. He's a good man, and I know he will treat me the way I deserve!" I wanted him to feel a sting of jealousy, even if just a little.
He paused for a moment. "Is this a new tactic to get my attention?"
"No," I replied softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm simply tired of loving you."
He scoffed, a dismissive wave of his hand accompanying his response. "Do what you want," he said, his tone filled with indifference. With deliberate steps, he turned and began to walk away. "I've told you countless times, I will never fall for you."
"Wait!" I called out, my heart racing as an impulsive surge of desperation propelled me towards him.
"Let me be crazy for just this moment..." I pleaded, my voice filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty. As I moved my head closer, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips against his. He stood frozen, unable to react or respond. With that unexpected kiss, I bid my final goodbye.
As I retreated, leaving him standing there in silence, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and sadness. It was finally time to let go and move forward, even if it meant doing so alone.
"I wanted to be that someone else." Turning my head, I catch sight of Chester as he catches up to my steps.
"You witnessed my rejection once again, didn't you?" I managed a bitter smile, my gaze lifting to meet his, holding back tears.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Chester apologized, his voice filled with genuine remorse for overhearing my farewell to Andrew.
"It's alright, really. I don't mind," I replied, attempting to move forward and let go of the pain.
Suddenly, Chester reached out and held my hand, causing me to come to a halt. "I wanted to be that man, Drew. I promise I will never hurt you," he declared, his eyes locking with mine, radiating love and sincerity.
The next day, as soon as I arrived in class, Kayla, my classmate, pointed her finger at me and exclaimed, "It must be you!"
Confused, I placed my bag on my desk and asked, "What do you mean?" All eyes in the room were suddenly fixed on me.
"My wallet went missing yesterday! And you were the only one who didn't attend P.E. class. It's you who took my money!" Kayla's voice carried a sharp tone, her eyes piercing into mine.
Feeling a surge of indignation, I met her gaze directly and declared, "I am not a thief." I refused to let fear consume me, knowing that I had nothing to hide.
Challenging her accusation, I raised my chin and asked, "Do you have any evidence?"
"Yes!" she responded triumphantly. "I checked the CCTV footage, and it clearly shows that you entered the classroom alone during that time!" Anger radiated from her as she struggled to contain her emotions.
As whispers filled the room, I felt a sense of helplessness, realizing that no one seemed willing to believe me. The weight of their accusing gazes made me feel isolated and misunderstood.
"Tell us, what were you doing alone in the classroom during that time, Ms. Hart?" The school director, Mr. Alexander Mitchell, asked me sternly.
My voice caught in my throat, and I struggled to find the right words to defend myself.
"I knew it was her!" Kayla insisted, her accusatory tone dripping with disdain. "I know you come from a poor family, but I never thought you could stoop this low!"
A single tear escaped my eye, betraying the mix of emotions swirling within me.
"We're giving you a chance to explain, Ms. Hart," my class adviser, Mrs. Grace Adams, interjected, her voice calm and composed.
"I didn't do it," I asserted, my voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation.
"If you didn't do it, then why can't you tell us exactly what you were doing there?" Mr. Mitchell's voice grew louder, his impatience evident.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before speaking. "Even if I entered the room, the footage only shows me going in and out without anything in my hands. I did not steal anything," I defended myself with newfound determination. "Why should I have to explain myself when you already have the impression that I'm guilty? Just because I come from a poor background doesn't mean I would resort to theft."
The school director's eyes widened with disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and disappointment. He felt disrespected by my response.
"Let's call the cops. They would handle this better," Kayla threatened, her voice laced with malice.
Remaining calm, I met her gaze directly and replied firmly, "My hands are clean."
"Have you heard? Kayla accused Andrea of stealing her wallet!" Jonathan, our classmate known for spreading gossip, exclaimed.
"She must be desperate. I heard her father was a gambler," Ray chimed in, his words dripping with judgment. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the room, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes turned towards the source of the noise. It was Andrew, who had abruptly stood up and left the room, his expression unreadable.
As I made my way to the classroom, I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on me. The news of the incident had spread like wildfire, and it seemed like everyone knew. The students looked at me with a mix of hatred and malice, their judgmental stares piercing through my soul. It saddened me to realize how quickly one's reputation could be stained in the eyes of others.
Chester was waiting for me outside the classroom. Concern etched across his face, he asked, "Are you alright?"
I simply nodded in response, unable to find the words to express my emotions. Throughout the day, I sat at my desk, not showing any outward signs of the turmoil within me. I felt numb, isolated by the growing rumors and the harsh judgment of my classmates. It was in this lonely atmosphere that Chester stood by my side, believing in my innocence. He bravely confronted our classmates who were spreading gossip, urging them to stop and reconsider their actions.
"Make sure to take your precious belongings before going to lunch!" Kayla announced to our classmates, her words dripping with sarcasm. The room fell silent as everyone regarded me as a thief, immediately following her advice.
Feeling isolated and alone, I rested my head on my desk, closing my eyes in an attempt to block out the judgment surrounding me. In that moment, Chester tapped my back, interrupting my thoughts. He showed me the sandwich he had bought, a bright smile on his face as if nothing had happened. His presence brought me comfort, reminding me that I wasn't completely alone in this ordeal.
"Thank you," I whispered softly, gratitude filling my voice.
"Anything for my girlfriend," he replied, his words catching me off guard. I suddenly realized that without a second thought, I had agreed to become his girlfriend the day before.
"Are you coming with me?" Andrew asked Chester as he made his way towards the school gate.
"Not today," Chester replied, offering a vague excuse. "I've got something on hand."
Andrew couldn't help but feel curious, wondering if there was something important that Chester needed to attend to. As he left, the thought lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of intrigue.
As the night grew darker, I found myself walking hand in hand with my first boyfriend. The street lamps began to illuminate one by one, casting a warm glow around us. With each step we took, I could feel the electricity between us, a mix of excitement and nervousness.
We held hands tightly, our fingers interlaced, and our eyes locked in a gentle gaze. In those fleeting moments, time seemed to stand still as we got lost in each other's eyes. A blush painted our cheeks, and we couldn't help but look away, feeling a delightful sense of embarrassment.
His hands, warm and comforting, gave me a sense of security and reassurance. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, my heart skipping a beat with each step we took together. Walking home had never felt so enchanting, and in that moment, I realized the magic of young love and the joy it brought to my heart.
The car began to move, but Andrew couldn't help but be consumed by thoughts of what had happened earlier that day. How could someone as intelligent as Andrea be labeled as a thief? His mind was filled with questions, wondering why he felt a surge of anger whenever he heard people gossiping about her. After all, he had rejected her and even humiliated her in the past. So why did he feel this strange sense of protectiveness towards her?
"Turn around," he commanded the driver, his voice filled with determination. Without question, the driver followed his instructions, swiftly changing direction.
Andrew rushed back to the classroom, sweat glistening on his forehead. Fortunately, Kayla was still there, surrounded by some of her friends.
"You," he gasped, trying to catch his breath.
Kayla pointed to herself, a curious expression on her face. "Me?" she questioned.
"Yes, I'm talking to you," Andrew replied, his voice firm as he approached her.
The presence of four other girls around Kayla didn't deter him. One of his classmates, curious yet cautious, spoke up, "Andrew, do you even know your classmates' names aside from Chester?"
"You, shut up. I'm not talking to you," Andrew responded coldly, making them feel uneasy.
With piercing eyes, he pointed directly at Kayla and commanded, "Look for your wallet again."