Chapter 9 Bronx’s POV

In my memory, Alison was an introverted girl with a smile that was incredibly beautiful. When she smiled, a faint dimple would appear at the corner of her mouth, like it was filled with sugar.

She must have recognized me. For the first time, I thought the student rankings for appearances were a good thing. I checked myself in the mirror over and over, and I was certain she knew who I was.

On the eighty–sixth time I accidentally brushed past her, I saw the surprise and joy in her eyes. I knew she must have known me.

But how could I approach her without being intrusive?

After dismissing five different plans of action,

I vaguely heard that she had been locked in the storage room by Lydia. I rushed over immediately.

Lydia–wasn’t she her sister? I remembered her as a spoiled girl, all looks with little substance.

I smashed the lock on the storage room door and found Alison huddled in the corner, crying with tears streaming down her face. When she looked up at me, those eyes that were always faintly smiling were now filled with sorrow. I fought the impulse to hold her and instead helped her up and took her home.

But I couldn’t help asking if she was alright. She obediently shook her head. Passing by a convenience store, I took the liberty of buying her some hot dogs, something to fill her up and warm her hands. Watching her repeatedly thank me made me feel a bit sad.

I didn’t want to hear her say those things.

Later, when the teacher asked me to tutor her, I was so happy. I finally had a reason to be by her side.

During this time, I heard countless rumors about her and her family.

I didn’t believe them.

But even if they were true, the dirtiest, most tainted soil could still produce pure and beautiful flowers.

Every day I focused on tutoring her. She was very intelligent but had a weak foundation. I wanted her to work hard with me, to enter the same university, and to escape her burdensome family. I could protect he

On that snowy night during senior year, I watched as she pretended to casually inch closer to me. Observing our shadows on the ground, I mirrored her actions, inching closer as well

When we were downstairs at her place, looking into her starry eyes, I couldn’t help but brush the snow off her head and tell her I was waiting for her to join me at the some university. I saw her excitedly nod and then urge me to hurry home

I took a few steps forward and saw her waving excitedly at me as I left

The heavy snow that night set the perfect mood, to the point where I couldn’t control my overly excited heartbeat when I got home. That night, I rolled around in bed like a fool.

No, this lovesick boy can’t be me.

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