The Boy I Forgot to Hate

To Swallow My Pride

I couldn't sleep a wink all night, the crushing weight of my own foolishness and humiliation playing on a loop in my head. Before I knew it, the alarm clock on my nightstand blared loudly, signaling it was six in the morning, and I practically vaulted out of bed.

My head felt heavy, and when I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror, a pair of bloodshot, puffy eyes greeted me. I groaned but ended up splashing cold water onto my face over and over again.

‘Focus, Elena. Forget about yesterday. You are here to learn, not to cry over a boy who has completely changed.’

I threw on a plain white t-shirt, an oversized, unbuttoned plaid flannel, a pair of comfortable jeans, and my worn canvas shoes before grabbing my heavy backpack.

Today was my very first class.

My first real step toward maintaining my scholarship at San Aurelio University. I couldn't afford to be even a minute late.

I took a deep breath, steeling my heart, then turned the lock and pushed open the door to Room 304.

Click.

At that exact moment, the sound of a door hinge echoing from across the hall caught my attention.

Click.

My hand froze on the doorknob. My heart dropped. The door to Room 305 directly opposite mine was wide open. And stepping out from it was a guy, casually adjusting the collar of his black denim jacket.

I froze on the threshold.

At this close range, in a dorm corridor illuminated by the bright morning sun, he looked absolutely stunning.

He was incredibly tall—I'd have to crane my neck just to look him in the eye. His shoulders were broad, his posture straight and athletic, leaving absolutely no trace of the scrawny boy in oversized clothes from my memories.

His dark, slightly messy hair only made him look effortlessly stylish. The crisp, expensive scent of a masculine cologne immediately wafted over, filling my senses.

He turned to lock his door. But the moment he realized someone was standing there, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Our eyes locked. For a few agonizing seconds, the third-floor corridor felt like a vacuum. I could see a spark of surprise in his eyes, which a second later ignited into a brilliant, overwhelming flash of pure joy.

"El?"

His voice was deep, low, and raspy with sleep, but the familiar tone in it made my chest ache with a sharp pang.

I didn't answer.

I just stood there awkwardly, gripping my backpack straps so hard that my knuckles turned white.

Julian turned his body completely toward me. A brilliant, wide smile—the kind that could easily make any girl swoon—spread across his handsome face.

He stepped forward, impatiently closing the distance between us.

"Elena! Is it really you?" he burst out, his tone bursting with enthusiasm, sounding exactly like the little Julian who used to get so excited every time he saw me walking toward his house back in Solverde. "I'm not seeing things, right? And our rooms—"

Julian pointed back and forth between our doors, letting out a short, crisp laugh. "Your room is right across from mine? Oh my god, El! This is crazy! This has to be fate!"

He reached out with both hands, moving reflexively as if to hug me out of old habit.

I immediately took a sharp step back, retreating into the safety of my doorway. I forced my expression to be as flat and icy as humanly possible.

Julian's hands hovered awkwardly in mid-air. The smile on his face faltered, replaced by a confused knit of his brows. "El? What... what's wrong?"

"Excuse me," I said, my voice sounding completely flat and formal, like an automated machine. "Could you please step aside? I'm already late for my first class."

Julian blinked a few times, looking like he couldn't quite believe his ears. "El, it's me. Julian. Julian Vega. Do you... do you not recognize me because I don't wear glasses anymore? Or because I got taller?" He tried to chuckle, taking another step forward in an attempt to thaw the sudden ice between us. "I know I've changed a lot, but there's no way you actually forgot your childhood best friend, right? I—"

"I didn't forget," I cut him off sharply. "But we haven't spoken in years. So, it feels a bit inappropriate for you to act like this overly familiar, Mr. Vega."

The words cut like a knife. I watched Julian's smile crumbled completely. His jaw clenched slightly, and the joyful spark in his eyes died instantly, replaced by a look of sheer, undeniable hurt.

"Overly familiar?" Julian echoed my words in a quiet, strained voice, as if in utter disbelief. "El, we grew up together in Solverde. We promised we'd—"

"That was a childhood story, and we aren't kids anymore," I interrupted ruthlessly.

I stepped out of my room, pulling the door shut behind me with a loud, hurried click, and walked right past him.

I could feel his gaze burning holes into my back, but I refused to turn around. Inside, I was screaming at myself to keep moving.

‘He already has Valeria. He has a new life surrounded by luxury items and popular girls. Don't let yourself look pathetic in front of him.’

However, I had barely taken five steps toward the stairs when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind me.

Grab!

A large hand suddenly clamped around my left wrist, bringing me to a jarring halt.

"Let go," I hissed without looking back.

"Not until you explain why you're acting like this!" Julian's voice rose, thick with frustration. He pulled my arm gently but firmly, forcing my body around to face him in the center lobby of the third floor.

"Take your hand off me, Vega! This is a public area!" I snapped, trying to wrench my wrist free, but his grip was too solid.

A few freshmen just stepping out of their rooms began to glance our way, whispering as they saw a guy as attractive as Julian holding back a girl who looked entirely plain.

Julian paid absolutely no attention to the whispers around us.

Instead, he pulled me closer, erasing the distance until I could smell the heavy scent of his cologne. He leaned down to match my eye level, his gaze wild with emotion.

"El... please," he whispered softly, his brows furrowed. "It's me. The Julian who always lost at capture-the-flag to you. The Julian who cried when his romper ripped because he fell out of a tree. Do you really not remember me? Or did I do something wrong to make you look at me like I'm your worst enemy?"

My heart shattered.

The raw hurt in his eyes almost made my resolve crumble. A small part of me desperately wanted to scream, 'Why were you kissing Valeria?! Why do you have to be part of the very crowd that made my high school years a living hell?!'

But my ego and my heartache were far too massive. I pictured my box of cookies again, sitting pathetically hidden behind a mountain of lavish gifts in his room last night.

‘It's better if this friendship is never revived, rather than us drifting apart later because you're too embarrassed to admit I'm your friend.’

I took a deep breath, gathering every last ounce of my courage, and looked at him with the coldest stare I could muster.

"I’m doing you a favor, Vega. I can't stand shallow guys like you."

With one powerful jerk, I managed to yank my hand from his grip, which had loosened slightly from pure shock.

Julian froze, his hands slowly curling into tight fists. His face went pale, looking as though he had just been slapped by a reality he couldn't comprehend.

"So, don't ever act like you know me. You're a stranger now," I added, before turning on my heel and walking briskly down the stairs, leaving Julian standing paralyzed in the increasingly crowded corridor.

The moment I hit the ground floor, I quickened my pace into a near-jog toward the faculty building. Stubborn tears threatened to blur my vision, but I aggressively wiped them away with the back of my hand.

‘Don't cry, Elena. You are here for your future, not for a past that's already gone.’