Chapter 2

That night, I stayed back late. I snuck into the teacher's office, swiped the spare key, unlocked the classroom door, and slipped a brand new workbook but with all the right answers already filled in into Daniel's desk.

The next day, when Daniel saw the workbook, he looked momentarily thrown off.

He glanced back at me, his gaze hard to read.

I pretended nothing had happened, and shot him a defiant eye roll, spinning my pen.

Memories ebbed away like the tide.

Daniel was still sitting in my seat, not budging at all.

The setting sun stretched his shadow out, giving him a sense of solitude I'd never seen before, so heavy it seemed to swallow him up.

He sat there the whole afternoon, not getting up until the sky was pitch black.

For the next few days, he became obsessed.

He went to the university library we always used, pulled up all my borrowing records, and tracked down every book I'd ever checked out.

He stacked them on the table and flipped through each page, like a detective searching for hidden clues.

What was he looking for?

I couldn't help but lean in, curious.

He went through every page, not even missing a single fold.

Suddenly, it hit me. He was looking for any sign I'd left behind.

But how could I have left any trace behind? I was too busy trying to hide my fierce love for him.

He finished one book and grabbed the next without missing a beat.

It was Wuthering Heights, the book we'd always end up debating in literature class.

I said, "Catherine and Heathcliff's love is destructive, just selfish possessiveness."

He shot back, "No, it's a bond that transcends life and death, a true connection of souls."

We argued until our faces were flushed, and in the end, the teacher punished us by making us write a three-thousand-word book report.

I remember that day. He was wearing a white shirt and the sunlight was perfect. With the light behind him, his eyes seemed to catch the light, shining like stars as he spoke.

Now, he traced his fingers over the cover of the book, his gaze distant and hollow.

"You were right," he said softly, as if speaking to no one at all. "It is destruction."

In the end, he came up empty-handed.

After leaving the library, he headed to our usual café.

He sat down in our usual spot, the one we used to fight over just to claim, and ordered a caramel macchiato, the one I loved.

I always complained the macchiato was way too sweet, something only kids would drink, and every time I'd make him order me a bitter black coffee instead.

He picked up the cup, took a small sip, and his brows immediately scrunched up in discomfort.

"This is terrible," he said under his breath.

But he still drained the cup, down to the last drop of that sickly sweet syrup at the bottom.

I drifted beside him, watching as he put himself through this torture, my heart wrenched with pain.

What was he trying to prove? Why was he putting himself through all this, just to remember his old rival?

*****

A week after my memorial, my family prayed for my spirit to return for a visit.

I'd been trailing Daniel for days now, and hadn't gone home once to check on my family.

I missed my parents.

But I couldn't break free from him. My soul felt chained to him. Wherever he went, I was dragged along.

That day, he finally made his way back to his own apartment.

It was a place I'd never set foot in before.

The whole place was done up in chilly minimalism: black, white, and gray everywhere. It was so Daniel. Everything was in its place, not a thing out of order, and not a hint of warmth.

And then, the last person I expected to see walked in. It was Tamara Redd.

She was the girl who gave Daniel a scarf back in high school, and confessed her feelings to him in front of everyone at university. She was also the one I trashed in my diary a thousand times, my sworn rival in love.

She was in comfy pajamas, carrying a steaming bowl of cereal from the kitchen, her face lit up with a gentle smile.

"Daniel, you're finally back. Where have you been these past few days? You haven't answered your phone at all. I was so worried about you," she said.

Daniel shrugged off his coat, his face unreadable, voice emotionless. "I was busy."

"Here, have some cereal. Your stomach's always acting up. Don't skip meals," Tamara said, setting the bowl in front of him.

I was thunderstruck. They had been living together?

I felt a stabbing pain right where my heart used to be.

It turned out he'd already started a new life, and had someone who'd care for him.

Then what was with all his strange behavior these past few days? Were those just crocodile tears?

Or was he just going through the motions, feeling sorry for the nemesis he'd sparred with for a decade?

Daniel didn't touch the cereal. He just stared at Tamara, his eyes eerily calm.

"Let's break up," Daniel said.

Tamara's smile froze on her face. "Daniel, w-what are you saying?" she asked.

She looked at him as if the words hadn't registered.

"I said, let's break up," Daniel replied.