Max was diagnosed with cancer; surgery was imminent, and he had to shave his head clean. His heart was pounding with fear. To bolster his spirits, I tearfully cut my long hair short. With my head now bald, I went to school, and Max laughed so hard he could barely stand straight. "Little fool, are you that smitten with me?" he teased. The mocking glances from those around made me feel utterly lost. It turned out Max never had any illness at all. He had made a bet with someone else, wagering on how far I would go for him. When someone asked Max if he had any feelings for me, he smirked with a cigarette dangling from his lips, his laughter unrestrained. "I'd be crazy to like someone who's so ruthless with herself." Later, someone had confessed his feelings to me. Max looked displeased and blocked my path. "Do not accept love letters from others," he commanded. "Fool, you're so gullible. Besides me, who else would genuinely care for you?"