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"Trying to get my attention that way? Original, I almost bought it, but you're really good at—"
"Yeah."
I said.
The laughter in Kyle's throat choked into a cough.
He straightened up from leaning on the desk.
"Cough! You... 'yeah' what?"
My gaze didn't waver.
Yeah, I gave up. I didn't want to redeem Ryan anymore.
I just wanted break free from this endless loop.
"If I said I liked you, could you kill me someday?"
"..."
Kyle froze, his mouth opened, but no sound came out.
A few seconds later, a flush spread from his neck,
Rushing up to the tips of his ears, then burning onto his cheeks.
The classroom was dead silent, everyone was staring, buzzing with gossip.
Only from the last row came the faint sound of a chair being dragged.
There, Ryan, who had only bowed his head before, now buried his entire face in the crook of his arm.
His jersey was half-dry, the muscles on his back slightly bulging from tension.
"You..."
Here, Kyle took half a step back, putting some distance between us.
Then finally found his voice, but it was loud and unsteady:
"You're outta your damn mind! You're way too young to be talking about dying all the time! Think that's cool? Get over yourself, psycho!"
His friend beside him, probably never seen him so flustered, snorted a laugh.
Kyle instantly reacted like a cat with its tail stepped on, kicking his friend's shin.
"What the hell are you laughing at?! Shut the fuck up!"
His voice thick with unconcealed anger.
I looked at the noisy boy in front of me.
But my mind conjured another image.
Many years later, also an afternoon.
A grown-up Kyle was escorted out of an apartment building by two uniformed officers.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, stained with blood that had already darkened.
Bystanders whispered, muttering one word:
'Murderer.'
My last meeting with Kyle was him looking at me through the police car window.
He glanced at me and tugged the corner of his mouth into something that wasn’t a smile..
"...Hey! Are you even listening?"
Kyle's voice snapped me back to the present.
He poked my forehead with a finger.
The action seemed aggressive, but the touch was light.
"What the hell's wrong with you? Is that how you confess?"
Kyle withdrew his hand, scratching his hair irritably, making the strands messier.
"Say something!"
Then, a sharp scraping sound came from the back of the classroom.
Followed by the dull thud of a chair leg hitting the floor.
All eyes instantly snapped towards it.
Ryan was standing, his body slightly leaning forward, one hand still on the pushed desk.
His chair lay overturned behind him, legs sticking up.
Meeting my gaze, Ryan stiffened like a kicked dog.
Then he bent down clumsily, picking up the fallen chair.
The whole time, he kept his head down, with black hair falling over his face.
After finishing, Ryan didn't look at anyone, turned, and hurried out of the classroom.
"..."
Seeing this, the flush faded from Kyle's face.
He stared coldly at Ryan's panicked retreating back, spat out two words:
"Freak."
