After what seemed like a long vacation, the day finally arrived... back to school.

And there I was, once again... standing in front of that gray gate, rusted by time, with my backpack slung over one shoulder and the dark circles from long nights still etched on my face.

To be honest... I wasn't excited about going back. My friends wouldn't be with me this year; they would be in another classroom. So why come? What was the point?

And yet, here I am... sitting in a corner of classroom 34.

The teacher asked us to introduce ourselves one by one. While the others spoke, I just stared ahead, not really listening.

“Dax Castro,” I said when it was my turn.

Short. Simple. No desire to elaborate.

The minutes passed slowly. The atmosphere was cold. Alien. But then came the break, and with it, the moment when I could at least breathe a little without being told what to do.

I sat down next to the few classmates I knew. Among them were Jaz and Alf, who never missed an opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“This year is going to be boring and meaningless...” I muttered, absentmindedly biting into a sandwich I had bought outside.

Jaz looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Boring? This is the year we graduate, Dax! We have to enjoy it.”

Alf, as always, went along with her.

“He's right, bro. This is the year. We have to make it worthwhile.”

I just looked at them. Not with annoyance, nor with mockery. Just with that neutral face of someone who expects nothing... but still decides to stay.

I sighed. I shrugged.

“Okay... okay. Maybe it won't be so bad after all.”

As the days went by, I got to know my classmates. Some were louder than others, some were quieter... and others were just there, like me.

The days passed slowly, monotonously... until someone had the “brilliant” idea of having a party. And to top it all off, on February 14.

February 14... the day I hate the most.

Not because I hate love, or anything like that... it's just never been a special day for me. It's just another excuse to feel more out of place.

But anyway, everyone seemed excited about the idea, so I didn't say anything. I just existed, as usual.

When the day of the party arrived, I sat at my desk, somewhat apart. Music played in the background, some were decorating with balloons, others had already taken out the cupcakes and soda. I was just there, wearing my green sweatshirt and staring out the window.

Until a voice pulled me out of my thoughts:

“Dax, come here,” said the teacher.

I tensed up. For a second, I thought he was going to scold me for not participating or for looking bored. I got up and walked over to his desk. In his hand, he held a black hair clip.

“Is this yours?” he asked, showing it to me.

I raised an eyebrow. A hair clip? Really?

“No, it's not mine,” I said firmly.

At that moment, a female voice sitting nearby replied:

“It's mine, teacher!”

The teacher turned to her and then said to me:

“I saw the clip in the hood of your sweatshirt and thought it was yours.”

I just nodded, not giving it much thought. He gave the hook back to her and that was that... or so I thought.

A few minutes later, as people began to eat and chat in groups, she sat down next to me. I don't know if it was coincidence... or if she just thought it was a good time to come over.

I sat up straight, not as hunched over as before, and with some hesitation, I decided to break the ice.

“Dax... my name is Dax,” I said, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.

“I'm...” she replied, smiling.

And just like that... without planning it, without expecting it... something was going to change this year.