Chapter 1
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A teenage love story.
“Puppy love,” people call it. A kind of love that’s simple, light, and easy to forget.
Unfortunately, my high school love story left behind a wound that never truly healed. A wound that stayed, even as time kept moving forward.
This is my story.
The story of a teenager who loved too deeply—even in the smallest things.
“Freya’s okay, right?”
Farrel’s worried tone was clear as he was about to step into the infirmary. His hand had already touched the doorknob when his steps suddenly stopped.
Someone was standing right in front of him.
Rara.
Not just standing—she stretched both her arms wide, as if the door behind her was forbidden territory.
“What are you doing here?” Rara asked coldly.
“Ra, move. I want to go in,” Farrel replied, starting to get annoyed.
“Do what?” Rara repeated, this time crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze was sharp, full of judgment.
“I want to see Freya. She’s my girlfriend.”
Farrel tried to push past her, but she didn’t budge, using all her strength to block him. Their bodies briefly collided before Farrel finally gave up.
“You’re joking, right?” Rara let out a mocking laugh. “Girlfriend?”
“What do you mean?” Farrel snapped.
“What kind of boyfriend leaves his girlfriend unconscious on the side of the field?” Rara’s voice rose. “While you? You were busy entertaining another girl.”
Farrel fell silent for a moment. “She was hurt, Ra.”
“Hurt?” Rara laughed bitterly. “Freya passed out because of the basketball you threw. Do you think that doesn’t hurt?”
His chest rose and fell. The anger he had been holding back finally surfaced.
Rara knew very well how Farrel treated Freya. She had heard too many stories—about broken promises, about attention that always lost to a ‘childhood best friend.’
But this time was different.
This had gone too far.
“I know I was wrong,” Farrel finally said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh? So if you didn’t realize you were wrong, you wouldn’t have come?” Rara stepped closer, her voice icy. “Just leave. You don’t deserve to be here.”
“Why are you picking a fight?!” Farrel was starting to lose his patience.
Rara took a deep breath. Her fists clenched. If they weren’t at school, she might’ve already thrown a punch.
But before another word could come out, the infirmary door opened from inside. Rara nearly stumbled back—if someone hadn’t caught her.
“Aya!” Rara turned quickly. “Why are you up? You should be resting!”
Freya stood there, her face pale, but smiling. “I’m okay, Ra.”
“You look pale.”
“Just tired.”
“You’re lying.”
Freya chuckled softly. “Ra, I’m fine.”
Without warning, Farrel pushed Rara aside. “Move.”
Rara was startled, but Farrel was already standing in front of Freya. His tone suddenly softened. Too soft.
“You should go home. I’ll take you.”
“No need,” Freya shook her head. “I’ll just take a taxi.”
“You can’t. You’re my girlfriend.”
Freya paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Rara stepped closer and whispered, “Aya, are you sure?”
Freya smiled faintly. “Yeah.”
“If he messes up again, tell me. I’ll crush him,” Rara threatened, even demonstrating her move.
Freya laughed. “Yes, commander.”
“You better watch yourself!” Rara shot Farrel a sharp look.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Farrel mocked, making Rara scoff in annoyance.
Without Rara, they walked down the quiet corridor. Their hands intertwined. The sound of their footsteps echoed against the empty walls. When they reached the front of the classroom, Freya finally spoke.
“Rel,” her voice was soft. “Don’t you want to apologize?”
“For what?” Farrel replied while fixing her bag.
“For making me pass out.”
Farrel stopped. “You knew?”
“I heard everything. So why don’t you apologize?”
No answer. Instead, Farrel started to walk away.
“Rel!” Freya chased after him. “Are you even listening?!”
Finally, Farrel stopped. “Fine. Sorry.”
Freya scoffed. “Was that so hard? It’s not like saying sorry will make you poor, Rel.”
“Sorry, my dear Freya.”
He ruffled her hair, then pulled her into a tight embrace. Too tight.
Freya’s heart pounded. Her face grew warm.
This was the first time Farrel had been this gentle.
And because of that—it felt unfamiliar.
They walked on again, as if nothing had happened.
Ironically, Freya felt grateful for passing out. At least, she got to feel the attention she had been longing for.
But then her phone vibrated softly.
Zyva.
A photo
.
A message came in.
“See? He loves me more than he loves you.”
Freya stopped walking.
She stared at the screen, then at Farrel’s back ahead of her—unaware that something had just shattered.
Her chest felt heavy.
And Freya knew, that brief happiness wouldn’t last long.
