The Boy I said I Hated

Someone From His Past

The next morning, I walked into school feeling strangely happy.

For the first time, I wasn't trying so hard to hide how I felt about him.

Well… not completely.

I still got nervous whenever someone caught us together, but I had stopped caring so much about the rumours.

I walked toward our classroom, expecting to find him waiting for me.

But he wasn't there.

I checked my phone.

No message.

That was unusual.

I sat down and waited.

Five minutes.

Then ten.

I tried convincing myself that I didn't care.

But I did.

More than I wanted to admit.

Finally, I heard laughter coming from the hallway.

I looked up.

And there he was.

But he wasn't alone.

A girl was walking beside him.

She was beautiful.

Confident.

And clearly comfortable around him.

She laughed at something he said, and he smiled in a way I hadn't seen before.

Something uncomfortable twisted inside my chest.

Who was she?

As they got closer, he noticed me.

His smile disappeared for a second.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied.

My eyes moved toward the girl.

She smiled at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

An awkward silence followed.

He looked between us.

“This is—”

“We already know each other,” the girl interrupted.

I frowned.

We did?

I couldn't remember her.

She smiled again.

“I'm his old friend.”

Old friend.

For some reason, those two words bothered me.

A lot.

He noticed the change in my expression.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Why?”

“Just for a minute.”

I followed him outside.

The moment we were alone, I crossed my arms.

“Who is she?”

He looked surprised.

“Why?”

“Because you were acting like you know her.”

“I do know her.”

“Clearly.”

He sighed.

“She used to be my best friend.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah.”

I studied his face.

“What happened?”

He hesitated.

“Things got complicated.”

That answer only made me more curious.

“Are you two together?”

His eyes widened.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled.

“Are you jealous?”

I immediately looked away.

“No.”

He laughed.

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You definitely are.”

I pushed his shoulder lightly.

“Stop laughing.”

He caught my hand before I could pull it away.

“There is nothing between us.”

I looked into his eyes.

“Then why didn't you tell me about her?”

His smile disappeared.

“I didn't think it mattered.”

“It matters to me.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He stared at me.

I looked away, embarrassed.

Then he stepped closer.

“It matters to me too.”

I looked back at him.

He squeezed my hand.

“I don't want you to doubt what I feel for you.”

My heart softened.

“Then don't give me a reason to.”

He nodded.

“I won't.”

For a moment, everything felt okay again.

Then someone called his name from behind us.

We turned around.

The girl was standing there.

Her eyes immediately dropped to our hands.

Her expression changed.

She didn't say anything.

She simply turned around and walked away.

He let go of my hand.

“I need to talk to her.”

My stomach dropped.

“Why?”

He looked toward the hallway.

“There's something I need to explain.”

I nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

He walked away after her.

I stood there watching them disappear down the hallway.

For the first time since whatever was happening between us had started, I felt unsure.

Maybe I trusted him.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling me.

And I had a feeling that girl knew exactly what it was.

---

Later that day

I was sitting alone in the dining hall when my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number.

I frowned and opened the message.

> You really think you're the first girl he's brought this close?

My heart sank.

I stared at the screen.

Another message appeared.

> Ask him what happened between us.

I stopped breathing for a moment.

Before I could reply, a third message came through.

> Then you'll understand why I walked away.

I looked around the dining hall.

Everyone seemed normal.

Laughing.

Talking.

Eating.

But suddenly, I felt like I was the only person in the room who didn't know the truth.

Then I saw him standing at the entrance.

He was looking straight at me.

I quickly locked my phone.

He walked toward me.

“Hey.”

I forced a smile.

“Hey.”

He sat beside me.

“You've been quiet.”

“I'm fine.”

He studied my face.

“You're lying.”

I looked at him.

For a second, I almost showed him the messages.

Almost.

Then my phone buzzed again.

I didn't look at it.

Because somehow, I already knew who it was.

And this time, I was afraid of what the next message might say.