I couldn't believe it — Austin and I were actually friends.
Well, maybe not just friends.
Part of me secretly wished we could be something more — best friends, or maybe… something deeper. Lovers, even.
I squealed at the thought.
Turns out, when former nemeses suddenly become friends, it shocks the entire school — especially those who had witnessed our legendary academic feuds even after two weeks of our friendship. Word spread fast, as if we were headline news.
By the following week, Austin and I decided to make it clear to everyone that the battle between us was officially over.
During recess, we'd sit together, laughing over the absurdities in some of Shakespeare's works.
During chemistry practicals, we'd beg the teacher to pair us up — and when he did, we'd grin like idiots. The class would stare in disbelief.
At lunch, we started sitting together too. Eventually, we began inviting a few of his close friends, like Daniel and Henry. They had fencing practice on Thursdays and often mingled with my friends too.
It became a new normal for us.
To my friends, it was just another part of our day.
But to the rest of the school, it was shocking. People were mesmerized.
I overheard whispers:
"I can't believe it… Austin and Annie? Friends?"
"What if they're more than friends?"
At first, it was all fun — the attention, the whispers, the wide-eyed stares.
Until Stephanie found out.
Stephanie was the most popular and wealthiest girl in school. Her father practically owned half the country's major organizations. And when she heard that Austin and I were not only close, but inseparable, she lost it.
She had always wanted to be the one by Austin's side.
So when she barged into the classroom one afternoon, red-faced and fuming, it was clear something had snapped.
She stormed to our corner — where Austin, our friends, and I were seated — and exploded.
"How can you two be friends? Austin, you're meant for greater things! Not hanging around some useless, good-for-nothing shy brat who can't even stand up for herself without help from her friends!"
Her words stabbed. I froze.
But Austin stood up, his eyes blazing.
"She isn't a spoilt brat," he snapped. "She's my friend — no, my best friend. Don't you ever say something like that about her in front of me again."
I was stunned.
No one — not anyone outside of Lily and Zoey — had ever defended me like that.
And in that moment, something shifted.
I had always let people like Stephanie talk — let them throw words like daggers while I stood there, silent, hoping it would all just stop.
But not this time.
Not when Austin had just stood up for me. Not when, for once, I didn't feel invisible.
I stood up slowly, my hands trembling, heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear my own voice — but I spoke anyway.
"What if Austin and I are friends? Or even… more than that?" I asked, my voice cracking but growing stronger with every word. "At least he cares. At least he isn't ashamed to be seen with a freaky weirdo like me. At least he treats me like I matter."
Stephanie opened her mouth, but I didn't let her speak. I wasn't done.
"We're almost done with high school," I continued, my eyes burning with unshed tears. "And soon, I won't have to deal with you — your cruel words, your fake smiles, or your need to make people feel small — ever again."
My voice echoed louder than I expected. The entire class had gone still.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
And then…
A voice from the back, half amused, half stunned:
"She said it. She likes Austin."
Gasps. Whispers.
The class went wild like a match had been thrown into a room full of gasoline.
Some laughed. Some stared. A few looked between me and Austin like we were the finale of some long-running school drama.
My legs gave out beneath me as I sank back into my seat. My heart was still racing — not from fear, but from the terrifying relief of finally speaking up.
Beside me, Austin didn't say a word.
He didn't move.
And neither did I.
We sat there, side by side, a few inches apart, and yet a thousand miles away.
For the rest of the day, we didn't speak. Not a word. Not a glance.
But the silence wasn't empty. It was heavy. Charged. Full of things we both felt but didn't know how to say.
I couldn't stop wondering — had I ruined everything?
Had my words crossed a line we weren't ready to face?
Or had I finally said what he, too, had been trying so hard to keep buried?