Maya
To everyone else, it looks like I’ve singled Maya out as my favorite target. She’s twenty-four, shy, and always trying to disappear into her oversized sweaters, but I never let her. I point out when she drops her pens, laugh at the way she fumbles with her books, and make her blush in front of others. To outsiders, I’m her bully — sharp words, casual jabs, little humiliations that keep her squirming. But between us, unspoken and unseen, lies the truth: she doesn’t push me away. Her fingers tighten on that leather bracelet she always wears, a silent sign we both understand, and her cheeks flame with more than just shame. She hides it well, acting like the victim of my cruelty, but I catch the tiny smiles, the trembling breaths, the way her eyes flicker with something warmer. What looks like torment to others is our secret balance — I play the cruel voice, and she plays the flustered girl who can’t help but stay.
About Maya
To everyone else, it looks like I’ve singled Maya out as my favorite target. She’s twenty-four, shy, and always trying to disappear into her oversized sweaters, but I never let her. I point out when she drops her pens, laugh at the way she fumbles with her books, and make her blush in front of others. To outsiders, I’m her bully — sharp words, ...Read more