It was an undisputed fact that Aurora Reyes did not like people. At all.

Every single soul she had had the displeasure of meeting so far were the same: selfish, false, cruel, superficial, intolerant... and the list goes on.

Humans lied to get what they wanted. Manipulated others to get away with their crimes. Made fun of other people's insecurities for their own entertainment, and failed to understand the damage they caused by acting like this —harming not only their contemporaries, but the very history they left behind.

Humans were creatures of limited thoughts, of dubious character, and of a perverse nature.

It sounds dramatic to say it out loud, but the notion itself isn't. With each new murder, rape, robbery, and fraud case she saw on the morning news, she became convinced that her hatred of humanity as a whole was justified. A being that destroys its own species and habitat for power, money and fame does not deserve the body its soul inhabits.

Besides, even on her best days she couldn't trust her own mind. How would she be able to trust the minds of others? How would she be able to be vulnerable, and open up, to such vile and ruthless beings?

Anyway.

Thinking about it wouldn't change a thing.

And sometimes, she felt like an alien for doing it so often.

She felt like a pathetic creature, and an imposter. Aurora didn't know what she was doing on earth. Watching the world burn because of selfish tycoons and corrupt politicians. She didn't understand what she was doing living her own life either; there was nothing nice to say about it.

Since she was a little girl her mere existence had been a source of ridicule for her schoolmates. The bullying was never ending. And from this sad fact her hatred towards society, and the world they all shared, was born. From this early trauma, her lack of esteem for everything and everyone was created.

She didn't like to say she had depression because of those awful, long gone days. She didn't like to think about why she had been picked on so heavily back then. But at times it was inevitable for her to remember all the insults she'd heard, and the mistreatment she had endured, since she was a small and innocent child.

So she just accepted what happened, and why it happened, without complaints. Learned to see her sadness as an inherent part of her existence.

Her memories weighed her down. Her shame and disgust towards herself were like dark shadows that followed her wherever she went.

At her young age, Aurora already had heard every single type of criticism imaginable about her body and character. People had told her that she was too tall. Too short. Too skinny. Too fat. Too ugly. Too shy. Too extroverted. No one seemed to be able to decide which insult fitted her best, but she was always "too much".

And that's why, with each new day that passed by, she contemplated more and more the possibility of no longer occupying space in the world. Aurora marveled at the thought of leaving the planet behind, and getting lost in the profound darkness of the universe, never to be found again.

Maybe then she would stop making everyone uncomfortable with her mere existence —which was "too much", "too strong"—and she'd be free from other people's prejudice, once and for all.

Her parents usually weren't home. Her brothers had moved to their own apartments in the capital. She didn't have many friends. She didn't even talk to her neighbors.

And, if she was honest with herself, the only thing stopping her from putting an end to her life was her dog, Splotch. But he was already getting old and soon his days on earth would be over too. And then she would be alone, without any purpose or obligation.

She would die, and no one would find her.

Aurora was looking forward to that day. She eagerly fantasized about the idea of ​​leaving her miserable existence. Maybe then she could be reincarnated as a rock, never forced to move or to talk with anyone, ever again. It wouldn't be a very different experience from the current one, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer because of her incurable sadness. She preferred to have no feelings at all, and turn into a literal stone, than to continue feeling as exhausted and distraught as she did right now.

She currently had a single joy in life, apart from her dog: Art. The girl painted and made clay sculptures in her free time. According to her own school teacher, her works were fantastic, and she had a great potential to become a renowned artist in the future... but Aurora knew that that just wouldn't happen.

Mrs. Javiera's enthusiasm was heartwarming and pure, but it somehow depressed Aurora even more. Because she had no desire whatsoever to go to a university, technical institute, or a simple workshop to increase and polish her talents.

All she wanted was the premature end of her life. It was to die as one of the great geniuses of history; without glories or praise, without prospects, without anything at all. She wanted her art to endure the test of time, not her spirit. She wanted to prove that her projects had important value and her name, by itself, did not.

And, as a matter of fact, the young sculptor was thinking about the macabre details of her sinister final plan, when her language teacher, Mr. Mateo, woke her up from her disordered and disorienting depressive trance, by announcing that his next assignment to the class would be made in pairs.

Fuck.

Her only thought was: "This couldn't be happening."

She didn't want to speak with anyone.

She didn't want to meet anyone.

Oh, and her teacher had also said that he'd already preselected the couples beforehand.

Holy. Fuck.

As it was said before, Aurora heavily disliked people.

And she especially hated the person that her professor had chosen as her new partner.

Alexandra de la Cuadra, or Alex, to keep it short. One of the prominent gym rats of their  class. A respected and revered athlete that was always seen in some track or field competition, representing their school. Her specialty was relay races, and her impressive collection of medals and trophies, that could be seen throughout all of her social media, were proof of it. She also had a wide collection of pictures standing over podiums, towering over everyone, while holding her golden awards with a proud smile.

Alex was pretty, there was no denying that. Her green eyes, long, luscious blonde hair, and her statuesque body - combined with her refined fashion sense-, made her one of the most beautiful girls in school. And anyone with working eyes could recognize it. Even Aurora, with her permanent disinterest in everything and everyone, was aware of this fact.

Due to her athletic adventures, the young woman was also quite popular and well liked. Boys desired her; girls wanted to be her. And rumours were always brewing around her.

The newest one was about her love life. Word around the hallways was that she was dating Álvaro Pizarro, a boy from another class. But Alexandra insisted that the two barely were friends. Still, they were seen together at every recess, they frequently met after classes and, more than once, had been seen behind the bleachers.

Despite all this proof though, the athlete swore that nothing had happened or was happening between the two. Obviously no one believed her.

Alex's family was also said to be rich. Not "we have a mansion and four Lamborghinis" rich, but "we have a big house in a safe neighborhood and a new pickup" rich - although for the students of the Alba high school, this was indeed a very privileged and enviable life.

Beyond all of this common knowledge, Aurora didn't know a lot about the girl.

Only that, when the blonde was younger, she had been the biggest bitch on planet earth towards her.

And indeed, the artist hated the athlete.

Rapturously.

Alexandra could now pretend to be a sweet, charismatic, tolerant and peaceful person. But before they both entered high school, she had been a real life demon in Aurora Reye's life. She was one of the bullies who scared and hurt her the most in the past.

Both studied together at San Martín High School, during middle school. At that time, due to her shyness and innocence, the sculptor had been the target of countless jokes and pranks by her classmates, specifically the blonde.

The attacks only increased in intensity as the years went by.

At first, Alexandra and her bratty friends did stupid, although mostly harmless things, such as sticking gum in Aurora's hair, throwing rubber bands, pieces of plasticine and crumbled paper balls at her head, staining her uniform with ink, pouring water on her, stealing her supplies, hiding her belongings... Which were cruel, but also superficial acts of malice.

However, their creativity increased as the days passed by, and then they started offending her body. Her personality. Began to make ruthless and hurtful comments about herself. Until finally, the beatings took place. These were one of the most disgusting humiliations anyone could ever experience in life.

It was then that Aurora's parents decided she'd change schools. Seeing that the administration of San Martín High School was doing absolutely nothing to stop the bullying, they both came to the conclusion that it would be better to transfer their daughter to Alba High School, during her second-to-last year of middle school.

But by then, it was too late. Damage already had been done. And although the brunette was treated way better in this new environment, she still felt, deep inside her veins, that anyone could turn on her at any time. And that, of course, all of her classmates secretly hated her. Which is why she kept to herself. Didn't speak to anyone if it wasn't necessary to do so. She no longer believed in love, in friendship, in camaraderie... nothing.

This constant state of depression existed since she could remember, but now that she was in her fourth and last year of high school, her desire to search for its peak had grown to an unimaginable degree.

She no longer wanted to keep fighting for a future that promised her nothing. No, she wanted peace. Rest. An eternal slumber.

Alex had transferred to Alba High School when they both were in their junior year, for reasons unknown to Aurora. And, since the blonde's arrival, both girls ignored each other as if they were the plague.

The athlete pretended she hadn't done anything wrong to anyone, and Aurora pretended she didn't know her greatest enemy in return. The fact that the artist was also a great lover of silence and solitude only helped her escape any chance-encounters between the two —which, when they did happen, were usually explosive and hostile.

Although they really were rare, since Aurora was such an hermit. More often that not, she hid in the art room during recess. Sometimes, some of her few friends would show up to keep her company, and try to bring her out of her hard and lonely shell. The most frequent visitor was her best friend, Giovanni Fuentes.

The brunette had met him on her first day at her current high school. The two of them sat next to each other and - both being very introverted people-, understood each other and their needs wonderfully well. Their connection was so special in fact, that their tables still were stuck together, right by the windows of their classroom. They were soulmates, but in the platonic sense.

And Giovanni was an artist too, although... in other ways. He liked to play the guitar. Went to museums and art exhibitions often. Explored forgotten and abandoned corners of the city looking for interesting scenes to photograph. And it was normal to see him sat by her side in the art room, showing his newer photos to her, motivating her to move, to fight against her sad lethargy and accompany him to other unknown spaces. With his charisma and genuine affection he usually achieved his goal... but not always.

Aurora barely had the energy to go to school some days. And even though she loved him like a brother, sometimes just getting out of his bed was a challenge. Spending time with him, running and jumping around...wasn't easy. She had to make a tremendous effort to keep up with him, and his own elevated levels of excitement.

However, Gio —the affectionate nickname she had given him—never gave up on motivating her. And she knew very well why.

He was worried. He feared her intense fatigue and deep melancholy. He feared what they meant, deep down. But, despite being grateful to the boy for his unbridled perseverance and affection, Aurora recognized that his suspicion and love were not enough to save her from her doomed end.

Gio had more friends. He was relatively popular, despite being quieter and more introverted than the rest of the class. If Aurora took her own life, the boy wouldn't miss her as much as he thought he would. In fact, she would probably be doing him a favor by leaving. If Gio stopped hanging out with the weird, reclusive girl of their class, his image and reputation would improve.

This was a lie of her own head, of course. She was well liked by her classmates too, and and her best friend wouldn't get over her loss that easily either. The bond between them was too strong to be broken gently; it would have to be completely torn apart.

But we must remember that the brain of a depressed person is capable of inventing the most terrifying of chimeras. And Aurora was unable to discern illusion from truth.

Perhaps it was for this very reason that, when Giovanni heard their professor say that Aurora had been paired up with Alexandra, he genuinely felt worried by the idea.

He knew part of the history that existed between those two. He knew that one girl had been a victim of the other. And he also knew that, even though years had passed since the end of their fight, a simple misplaced comment from Alex could ruin, once and for all, what little emotional stability his best friend had left, and lead her to commit an idiotic act of utter desperation.

"I'll be fine," Aurora swore in a cold, dejected tone, that only worsened his distress.

And so, Giovanni asked her once again if this truly would be the case:

"Are you sure? I can talk to the teacher..."

"No," she insisted. "I don't care. As long as that blonde demon over there does her part of the work..." She shrugged. "It's all good."

Giovanni sighed and shook his head in frustration.

"Call me if something goes wrong, okay?"

The boy then grabbed his backpack and walked over to the table of his assignment partner.

"I will."

All the students in the room then began switching seats and teaming up with each other, to organize their responsibilities together and come up with good ideas for their essays. Alexandra wasn't an exception.

Once Giovanni left, the girl approached Aurora's desk with timid steps and a shy demeanor, carrying her neon pink backpack and her equally flashy Stanley cup.

"Hey."

The artist did not say a single word back. She simply allowed the blonde to sit down next to her, and looked at the blackboard ahead in total silence, choosing to focus on understanding the instructions that their teacher was currently writing down.

The assignment itself seemed to be simple. Each couple in the class would have to write a six page essay about an author that they liked. They could choose to talk about anyone they wanted to, but the pair should be able to split the work evenly, and analyze one of the writer's books together.

Aurora read a lot in her free time, and had many favorite authors. But honestly, she didn't care about praising or criticizing anyone in particular. She didn't want to suggest any writers to the blonde either. In fact, if she could, she preferred not to speak at all.

Alex, on the other hand, could not shut up about their assignment. Not even if her life depended on it. The girl seemingly had a goddamn radio in her throat, and the frequency was more than stable; frenetic. She didn't understand the meaning of the word "quiet". And sooner than later, the artist would figure this truth out.

"So? Who would you like to write about?"

Aurora sighed. Lowered her gaze to her pencil case and dropped her pen over the table, shrugging, and making it clear to the blonde that she could not give less of a damn.

"You pick someone."

"I think I'd like to talk about Goethe."

Aurora clearly wasn't expecting that sort of reply. She looked at Alexandra with a mixture of confusion and doubt.

"You know Goethe?"

"My dad is a literature professor... I read a lot of things."

"Hm."

"Why? Don't I look like someone who would read Goethe?"

Aurora shook her head. She wanted to tell the bubbly blonde that, in fact, she looked like someone who would read questionable Wattpad fanfics at three in the morning, or maybe romantic comedies with sexist undertones, but in the end, she didn't say a word. Again, Aurora loved silence.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do love the classics. Although some authors absolutely are problematic, and their books are also very questionable, if analyzed through today's values... I like their flowery prose. Their giant paragraphs. The way that they saw beauty in random words and in the order that they fit inside a sentence... I feel like that doesn't exist anymore. The art of narrative poetry is lost.

Aurora found her way of explaining her thoughts compelling and she actually agreed with the blonde for once, but, once again... no reaction, other than a low rumble and a shy, somewhat annoyed, nod.

"Hm."

"What about you? I know you like to read. I've already seen you out of the corner of my eye, with plenty of novels in your hand. What's your favorite author?"

"Too many to choose.

"But if you had to pick one..."

"Emily Dickinson."

"Oh, so you're more of a poetry gal..."

"I read anything and everything. But I like her. I enjoy her work. Her prose." Aurora picked up her pen again. "Heaven -is what I cannot reach." She lowered the volume of her voice, and her lack of enthusiasm suddenly shifted into sadness. "But... Whatever. Let's talk about Goethe."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked, and the artist shrugged yet again. The blonde then decided to ignore the return of her dejection, and kept rambling: "Alright... Let's do it then. We could focus on analysing The Sorrows of Young Werther."

"As you wish."

"Have you even read it? Because if you're going to write about it while feeling this annoyed and bored..."

"There would be far less suffering amongst mankind, if men —and God knows why they are so fashioned— did not employ their imaginations so assiduously in recalling the memory of past sorrow, instead of bearing their present lot with equanimity," Aurora interrupted her. "That's one of my favorite quotes." Then scribbled something on her notebook. "So yes, I've read it."

Alex opened her mouth to continue speaking, but their teacher's histrionic voice silenced her. So she swallowed some spit, picked up her pencil and began to write down what he had written on the board as well. When the man's speech ended, the entire classroom resumed their conversations. So, it was her time to try again:

"And what's your favorite Dickinson poem?" the athlete asked, lowering her pen.

Aurora clenched her jaw, starting to get irritated.

"Why do you want to know?"

"We're going to be working on this essay together during this entire week, I gotta know your taste."

"You don't have to know a single thing about me."

"But I want to."

"You want to?" Her anger became more and more apparent.

"Why are you upset? Is that forbidden?"

"For you, it is. And you know why it is." The artist looked at their teacher, and tried one last time to calm herself down.

Aurora was about to ask him to switch up her partner, because this project definitely wouldn't work out between the two of them, when the blonde dared to open up her mouth again:

"Look, I'm sorry... I know that we don't have the best history together..."

"The best history?" The brunette faced her once more, with a genuinely murderous look in her eyes. "ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

Mister Mateo turned his attention towards the pair and tilted his head to the side, like a confused puppy. His horror only worsened when Aurora —who he usually recognized as a quiet, calm, and introverted student—slammed her closed fist on the table in front of her and jumped up to her feet, just to immediately run out the door.

His surprise was so intense, in fact, that he couldn't even stop this from happening. He just stared at Giovanni with his mouth agape, and gestured for the boy to leave the room as well, and go check if the young woman was okay.

He then approached Alexandra:

"Miss de la Cuadra, can you please explain to me what just happened here?"

"I told you this wasn't going to work. She hates me..."

This was the last thing that Giovanni heard the blonde say before he stepped out into the hallway, and began to search for his best friend. For some reason, he thought he'd find her crying alone in the bathroom. He wasn't expecting to find her right around the corner, sitting on the ground with her legs outstretched, arms crossed, and her glazed eyes staring into the nothingness ahead.

"Rory? Are you alright?"

"If by 'alright' you mean 'pissed off', then yes," was her short and concise reply. The girl saw him sit down beside her and relaxed her posture a bit. "You shouldn't be out here."

"Mister Mateo told me to come and find you."

"Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. Now go back inside. You have an essay to write."

"The essay can wait, you can't."

"That's cute, but I already told you once; I don't like you like that."

"Aurora." He raised his voice, trying to get her to behave. "You're my friend, and I'm worried. Could you please stop being ironic, for just a moment, and believe me when I say it so?"

The artist took a deep breath in. Uncrossed her arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm just annoyed."

"I know that already."

"Alexadra... She's a bitch."

"Hey, that's not a very feminist thing for you to say."

"Feminism dies for me the moment I see her face," the young woman commented and he laughed. "No, I mean it, Gio. She humiliated me and put me through hell when we were both students in our old school. And now, after spending two years here, without saying a single word to me, she tries to chat? To do small talk? Treat me with simplicity and joy, as if we were best friends or something? As if nothing had ever happened between the two of us?... It's ridiculous, and insulting. Can you believe that she had the nerve to ask me who my favorite author was?"

"And that's a bad thing, because?..."

"Because she doesn't have the right to know a single thing about me! She doesn't have the right to try to get close to me, after everything she's done!"

"Oh..." The boy at last understood her point.

"And, you know what?... I've just had a change of heart. I can't do this assignment. Not with her. And I tried. I swear that I did, and that I tried to be indifferent, but... I can't."

"Let's talk with Mister Mateo then. Let's explain the situation and say the truth; it's impossible for the two of you to get along."

And they did attempt to do so, during recess, when their classroom was empty and they could have a bit of privacy with the teacher. But the man was inflexible, and the teenagers' shared frustration only grew. His reason for disagreeing with their petition?...

"I already know what happened in the past, between you and Alex." The professor laid both hands over his desk and intertwined his fingers. "She told me everything."

"Then why are you forcing me to work with that... brat?"

"Because I think that you and Alexandra could become very good friends if you try to put you differences aside."

"Friends?" Aurora crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, clearly upset. "Do I look like a care bear to you? And do you think that she'll be able to fix all of the damage she caused with the magical power of friendship?!"

"Rory..."

"No, Gio! I refuse to keep working with her! I would rather fail the essay, and get the first 'F' I've ever gotten, than spending a single minute more with her!"

"Aurora, please..." The teacher sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time since their conversation started, and tried his hardest to remain calm and patient. "Can't you at least give her one opportunity to redeem herself?"

"She doesn't deserve it!" the girl shook her head. "And you know what? I'm leaving!"

"But!..."

"Goodbye!"

Giovanni tried to stop her from bolting, as well as Mister Mateo. But in a rare moment of teenage rebellion, she paid attention to neither of them. She ran down the hall, towards the bathroom, and locked herself in one of the stalls with a loud door slam. She didn't cry, nor lament anything she'd just done. The girl simply sat down to breathe, and take advantage of the stillness of the environment to calm herself down.

Well, at least that's what she wanted to do when she first arrived. But just as she managed to focus on something other than her racing thoughts, Aurora heard a high-pitched, painful wail coming from the wall to her right.

Someone was sobbing in the next cubicle.

Someone was sobbing really hard.

The artist opened her mouth to say something, instinctively wanting to comfort the poor girl next to her, but the courage to speak did not come to her. So she closed it again, rubbed her  face with her hands and stood up again, eventually.

The bell that signaled the end of recess had rung and she had to return to class, if she didn't want to be scolded by her strict biology teacher. She already would have to deal with Giovanni's irritating worry, and that was enough trouble for one day.

Aurora did decide to wash her face before leaving, though. And because of that small delay, she was present in the room when the door of the aforementioned neighboring cubicle opened. Astonished, the sculptor saw Alexandra emerge from its dark insides with reddish eyes, a swollen face, and a saddened expression reigning over her delicate features.

What the fuck had happened to her?

At first, the athlete did not recognize her. The blonde wiped her tears with a piece of brown paper and walked towards the nearest sink. Only then, as she looked up in the mirror, did she notice who the girl standing to her left was, and who had been keeping her company in the bathroom. As Alexandra did so, her lips parted and her brow relaxed. Fear had taken control over her melancholy.

Aurora, on the contrary, had hardened her features in an attempt to appear tough and perfectly composed. She stretched her posture, sharpened her gaze, and turned to the paper dispenser with a slight shake of her head. After drying her hands, the brunette walked towards the door, determined to leave, once and for all. There was no one else there beside the two of them, and the hallway had also been emptied out, so it was better if she hurried and went back to class immediately. But, before stepping foot outside, for some reason she took one last look at her sworn enemy.

Alexandra was leaning over the sink, with her hands anchored to its edges and her chin dropped down, touching her chest. She seemed to still be crying behind her curtain of golden locks. And that vision made the artist feel sorry for her, although for a second. Still, it wasn't distressing enough to make the brunette toss the sword of her resentment aside, and ask if the blonde was okay.

"She deserves this." A vengeful voice echoed in the back of Aurora's mind, silencing her conscience with its sincerity.

So, with a sigh, she left the bathroom...

Only to return there nearly forty minutes later, when her annoyingly good character made her notice that Alexandra still hadn't returned to her seat. Also, Aurora knew that, if she stayed in the comfort of her chair, and did nothing but anxiously think about the girl's absence, something really bad could end up happening in one of those cubicles.

So, she asked her teacher for permission to leave the classroom, and went back to the last place where they had seen each other.

As expected, the athlete had once again seeked refuge inside one of the stalls, and closed the door in a futile attempt to hide the sound of her heavy breathing and her sobs.

Alright, maybe that did touch Aurora's heart... Only slightly and against her will, but anyway.

"Chocolate?" she asked, sliding a candy bar under the door.

The blonde's cries stopped being as loud as they were in the precise moment that the artist's voice echoed through the walls of the bathroom. They subsided completely, however, when the metallic sound of the candy bar being opened was heard, followed by a soft crunch.

"T-Thank you."

"Hm."

Aurora leaned her back against the white tile wall and crossed her arms. She spent a few more minutes in silence, think about what she should say next. But right as she made up her mind and convinced herself that she should talk, her enemy beat her to it:

"Are you still there?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

And what a question that was.

Indeed, why? Why hadn't she left yet?

The artist had plenty of reasons to flee. Preserving her sanity and pride, being the main one.

"I won't have a partner for our English assignment if you drown in your own tears." A wet laugh kissed Aurora's ears, right after she finished talking. She wanted to smile back at the blonde, but she fought her own desire to do it with all of her mental strength. Because she couldn't forget who the person on the other side of that stall truly was. "So... Are you coming back to class now?"

"I... c-can't. Not y-yet."

"Do you want me to call someone then, to keep you company? Maybe Álvaro?"

"No!... Please, don't."

By the reaction, and how wounded and hurt she sounded, Aurora presumed that the current emotional state of the athlete was a result of something awful that the boy had either done or said.

"Okay. Then I can call someone else..."

"No. I really don't w-want to speak with anyone," Alexandra insisted and then added, in a thinner voice: "No one would get me anyway..."

Aurora was angry at herself for worrying so much about that... creature. But once again, she did. Because the brunette had already been in her place before, and felt her same sadness and sense of utter defeat - although for different reasons. And she didn't wish that kind of suffering to anyone. Not even to her greatest enemy.

"Well... If you need to vent, then I'm here. Go on."

"What?"

"It's just an offer." Aurora shrugged, not caring that the other girl couldn't see the gesture, from the other side of the door. "I don't know... Maybe it will help you feel better."

"But... Less than two hours ago you didn't even want to talk to me."

"You know I have my reasons."

"Yes, but..."

"Look, I'm only trying to be empathetic. That's it. I may not like you, at all, but I can't just walk away while you're all alone, bawling your eyes out here in the bathroom. For better or for worse, I still have a conscience... But don't say that to anyone else or I'll bust your knee caps."

The door of the stall opened up. Alexandra stared at Aurora with a mix of regret, distrust and melancholy. Somehow, the blonde looked weaker and more anguished than earlier.

"I don't want to talk."

"Okay than. We don't." The artist pressed her lips in a thin line and shrugged yet again.

"But thank you... And I mean it."

"Sure." Aurora scrunched up her face, faking disgust, and looked at the door.

"No, not only for the offer. But for coming here, and checking up on me. You didn't have to."

"I know that already."

"And I'm sorry."

The brunette's attention returned to Alexandra, and she seemed surprised by the pain she detected behind those words.

"There's not need for you to..."

"I was a total bitch to you, and I know it. But I do regret it. A lot. And yes, I am well aware that apologizing to you a hundred times won't ever be enough, because you'll never forgive me, since I was such a conceited, evil, despicable little idiot, but... I'm sorry anyway."

"I don't forgive you."

The blonde sniffled her nose and nodded.

"I know."

"But..."

"What?"

Aurora took one step forward. Then another. Contemplated what she should say next carefully. Doubted whether she really should speak up or not. Because doing so could jeopardize the serenity of her spirit - which lately already was quite scarce.

"Are you busy today? After class?"

"Today?"

"Yes. Are you? We should begin doing the research for our essay as soon as possible."

"Today..." the athlete repeated, feeling a little disoriented by the question. "No, uh... I'm not. Busy, I mean."

"Great. Find me in the library then, in the National History section."

And that was Aurora's peculiar way of saying that, despite not being able to forgive her yet, she at least could try to.

This little experiment would be her last attempt to restore her faith in humanity.

And the blonde, luckily, understood the message behind her orders. And smiled, even if she still felt weak and drained:

"I'll be there."

The artist nodded quickly and pointed towards the door, silently saying that she'd get going now. Alexandra didn't comment anything else, as she dried her cheeks with the back of her hand. When the brunette got to the exit, she turned on her heels one last time and carefully watched the other girl, as she tried to compose herself.

"I really don't like you. But no boy on earth deserves this many tears. So, if Álvara screwed things up with you somehow, or cheated on you, or whatever... just tell him to fuck off. Even I know that you are worthy of someone better than him."

"Okay."

And with those final words, Aurora left the place for good. Upon her return to the classroom, she chose to keep her mouth tightly closed, and not tell Giovanni a single thing about what had happened. She just told him that she had reconsidered her choice regarding the assignment.

"We'll just have to write an essay together, right? It 's just a grade. And then I won't have to ever talk to her again."

"Yes," he agreed. "It will be hard, but you've been through worse. And If Alex tries to do something to you, now you have me beside you. Just say you want her dead, and it will be done."

Aurora snorted and smiled, genuinely thankful for his overprotectiveness. She then leaned to the side and put her head on Giovanni's shoulder, asking for a hug that he did hesitate in initiating.

"You don't have to kill her, I'll do the dirty work. Just help me hide the body."

"In that case I'll keep a shovel hidden inside my backpack, at all times."

"If you have one that's small enough to fit, then sure."

"Don't underestimate me. You know I'd find a mini-shovel. For you, I would."

Aurora chuckled.

"Yeah. I know."