Thank you for checking out my story. Please stay and read on :)

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real people or places is purely coincidental.

There is no exact location or date specified on purpose, because it has no relevance to the story.

Cover photo by Vlad Bagacian on Unsplash


Bonus: 9 Reasons why this story isn't a cliché:

1. None of the characters are what they seem at first sight.

2. None of the characters are aspiring writers or editors, are obsessed with books, or pursuing a career in English Literature.

3. None of the characters are billionaires, millionaires, or even properly rich by common standard.

4. No one is in a mafia, trying to join it or to sleep with the head of it.

5. There is no fake relationship that turns into a real one.

6. There is no enemies to lovers relationship.

7. The popular guy isn't a jerk, the jerk isn't popular and popular isn't a really attractive idea to anyone who's not a jerk. But really, no one is truly popular or unpopular in the traditional way.

8. The story doesn't end when high schoolers go to college, it only begins there.

9. No one is Alfa, Beta, Omega, any other greek letter, and also not any nameless kind of werewolf.

Disclaimer: No disrespect intended to anyone whose stories include any of those topics. It's meant purely as humour, just because those seem to be the most popular. storylines these days. Which is probably why this story will never be that popular :P




"It's just… It's not supposed to be so hard," I mumbled quietly, tears filling in my eyes again. "We were just kids when we met. It's been going on for years now, but we're never quite there. I think it's just not meant to be," The words burned in my throat on their way out. Admitting this was so immeasurably more painful than thinking it to myself. Up until this moment I hadn't realized how many times I've actually had this thought swirling in my mind, refusing to formulate completely.

I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, closing my eyes for a long moment. He was so quiet I feared he'd left the room. Or maybe I hoped he had.