I’ve always had issue with low blood sugar. Because of that, my childhood best friend, Ethan, always kept an emergency stash of chocolate in his backpack just for me. Today, right after crushing the 800-meter track event, I was feeling faint. I naturally reached into his bag for a bar. Suddenly, Serena, the delicate new transfer student, burst into tears. She looked at me, trembling, and asked, "Why would you steal the birthday gift Ethan gave me? I know it was just chocolate, but it was my gift..." Ethan panicked immediately. He rushed to her side, cooing that he’d buy her a new one, a better one. I was left standing there, completely stunned, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Later, I was representing the school at a regional meet. The moment I crossed the finish line in first place, Ethan and my new desk-mate, Leo, both stepped forward. They both held out a chocolate bar at the same time. Without a second thought, I silently took the bar from Leo. Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air. He looked at me, lost and hurt. "Harper, why won’t you take my chocolate anymore?" 01 We were the center of attention. I stood there, gripping the hal-eaten chocolate bar, my palm slick with sweat. The heat was melting the chocolate, smearing it all over my hand. Serena was still crying. "Harper, I know you don't like me being friends with Ethan, but I just got here. He's my only friend." She sniffed dramatically. "I just... I just wanted to feel what it was like for someone to have me in their thoughts..." The whispers started immediately, swirling around me from every direction in the homeroom. "No way! Is Harper really that petty? Stealing someone's birthday gift?" "Tsk, she’s not 'someone,' she’s the childhood friend. Looks like she’s jealous that her guy is giving attention to the new girl." "That’s so desperate. Just because she’s on an athletic scholarship doesn't mean she owns him." "Serena is so heartbroken. I want to give her my allowance to buy her a better gift." ... I froze. I wanted to explain. But it felt like something was blocking my throat. I couldn’t get the words out. I wanted to say that I didn't know it was her birthday. I didn't mean to steal anything. I wanted to say that Ethan was the one who told me that whenever my sugar crashed, his backpack was a safe haven for chocolate. That's the only reason I took it. I was dizzy, exhausted from running my best time. I just needed to not faint. I had no idea that specific bar, wrapped up with a tiny bow, was a gift for her. Ethan, having heard the commotion, rushed back from the teacher’s lounge. When I saw him, relief washed over me. My eyes stung. He was finally here. He would explain everything for me. Or so I thought. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He ran straight to Serena, leaning over, desperately trying to calm her down. "Don't cry, Serena. I’ll get you another gift. A better one." Looking at Serena’s pristine, tear-streaked face, Ethan finally remembered I existed. He turned to me, his expression full of accusation. "Harper, apologize to Serena. That was her gift." The room practically exploded with 'I told you so' looks. "Wow, confirmed. Harper really did take the new girl’s gift." "Taking something without asking is just stealing, period." Countless subtle, disdainful looks were aimed at me. It was blindingly sunny outside, but I was shivering violently inside. The humiliation and shame almost swallowed me whole. Finally, I took a deep breath. I forced the tears back, Refusing to let them fall. I turned to Serena, stiffened my spine, and gave a forced, robotic apology. "I’m sorry." 02 Before the bell rang for class to start. Ethan pulled Serena back to our section of the room. That’s when I realized my desk had been moved. Ethan and I used to sit next to each other. Now, Serena was in my spot. I looked around, lost, searching for my desk. "Your seat is over there," Ethan said flatly. I followed his finger to the very back corner, by the rear door. It was isolated. No desk-mate. My textbooks were in a disorganized mess on the dusty surface. "You’ve been away at the training camp for weeks," Ethan explained, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. "Serena can’t see the board from the back, so she swapped with you. It’s not like you’re in class often anyway." I listened to his distant voice, numb. I walked to the back row, moving like a ghost. Behind me, I heard Serena whisper, "Won't she be mad about this? Maybe I should just give it back..." "Forget it. She made you cry. Consider this her way of making it up to you." "Ethan, you’re too good to me." Her voice was sweet and delicate. The kind of voice that made people want to protect her. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan looked at her with such tenderness. Who could say anything harsh to a girl like that? I lowered my head, the tears finally breaking free. Everything inside me was aching, twisted and bitter. How did this happen? I was only gone for two weeks. Before I left, Ethan was different. If anyone had even touched my desk while I was away, he would have snapped: "Back off. What if you mess up Harps’ stuff? Don't worry, Harper, you focus on training. As long as I'm here, no one is moving your desk." When did that change? Oh, right. It started when Serena Williams (not that one, just a common name) transferred in this semester. She was beautiful, smart, and always smiled softly at us. "I’m so jealous of how close your friendship is," she would say wistfully. After that, Ethan started inviting her to lunch with us every single day. Back then, I was oblivious. I thought I was just making a new friend. I ignored how the frequency of Ethan’s replies to my texts during camp dwindled to almost nothing. I ignored his "joking" comparisons: "You should learn a thing or two from Serena. Be a little less... aggressive." The homeroom teacher walked in. Following behind her was a new face. He was undeniably good-looking. But cold. He looked like the world owed him money. The teacher cleared her throat. "Class, this is Leo Carter. He’s in the advanced art program, but he’ll be taking core classes with us from now on." The teacher scanned the room, landing on the empty spot next to me. "Leo, you can take that empty seat next to Harper. Since you’re both specialty students—art and athletics—you might find you have some common ground." 03 Hearing my name, I frantically wiped away the tears. But I forgot about the melted chocolate still on my hands. In an instant, I smeared dark brown chocolate across my face. I looked ridiculous. Everyone turned to look, and the room burst into laughter. Ethan wasn't laughing. Instead, I saw a flicker of something like disgust in his eyes. I lowered my head, my face burning crimson. Suddenly, a backpack slammed onto the desk next to me, followed by a full pack of wet wipes. I looked up to see Leo settling into the seat beside me. He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. "If you don’t wipe that off now, it’s going to dry." I clumsily grabbed a wipe and scrubbed my face. "Thanks," I whispered, barely audible. The teacher had stepped out for a moment. Immediately, the gossiping cliques started buzzing. "Another specialist student. This is the honor track; I don’t know how they just let anyone in." "Exactly. When they can’t keep up, they’ll regress. If Ethan hadn't helped Harper, she would have washed out ages ago." "Well, Serena is his partner now. Looks like Harper and the new guy can be miserable together in the back." They weren’t even trying to be quiet. Leo and I could hear every word. I gripped my pen until my knuckles turned white. I fought the tears, but the injustice of it all stung. Leo seemed like he hadn't heard a thing. He was calmly sketching something in his notebook. Didn't he feel any insecurity? Any shame? Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over to see what he was drawing. I looked, and forgot to cry. It was incredible. 04 Even though I had tutors during training camp, I had missed a lot. The next period was advanced placement math, and I was lost. I stared at the problem set, panicking. I didn’t even notice when the bell rang for the end of class. I had tried three different methods, and none of them worked. I didn't realize Ethan had walked back to my corner. He rapped his knuckles against my forehead. "Still stuck? It’s a basic Cauchy inequality application, Harper. If you don’t get it, you should ask. Sitting here stewing on it until tomorrow morning isn't going to make the answer appear." That was how Ethan always treated me when I couldn't solve a problem. Rough but present. He said it was to help me remember. But after everything that happened today, that familiar gesture felt different. It was the breaking point. The hot sting of humiliation rushed back. Tears splashed onto my worksheet. Ethan paused, his voice softening slightly. "What are you crying for? I'm not going to leave you hanging." He started to pull a chair over to show me how to solve it. Suddenly, Serena spun around in her seat up front, smiling brightly. "Ethan! I just found two different ways to solve this problem! Can you look at my logic and see if it holds up?" He seemed mesmerized by her smile. He abandoned the chair instantly. "Calculate it yourself first," he snapped at me before sprinting back to Serena. I stared at Serena’s smile from a distance. It felt blinding, smug, like a trophy she was flaunting. A wave of stubbornness washed over me. I had to solve this problem. But when I reached the final step, I was stuck again. Leo had stopped sketching. He pointed at my chicken-scratch scratch paper. "Using that inequality on this specific problem makes the calculation too complex. It's easy to make a mistake. There’s a simpler formula for this type of problem." He quickly jotted down a string of variables. I stared for a moment, and then it clicked. I grabbed my pen and reworked the problem. Everything flowed smoothly. I got the answer. I was ecstatic. I turned to thank him. But he was already sketching again. Okay. Looks like my new desk-mate is a closet genius. 05 When school ended, I hesitated. Should I walk with Ethan? We live next door to each other. Our parents are best friends. If we don't go home together, our parents will worry, and I didn't want to explain why. But by the time I came back from the restroom, Ethan was gone. There was a note on his empty desk. Go home yourself today. I have something to do. I shouldered my backpack. As I walked, I tried to focus on my digital flashcards, memorizing vocab. Passing by the downtown shopping center, I saw Ethan’s reflection in a window. Serena was with him. They were in a high-end candy store. I stopped, watching. Ethan's voice, usually blunt with me, was incredibly gentle. "Do you like this kind? It's imported Belgian chocolate. It's supposed to be the best." "I love it. If you’re giving it to me, I’ll love anything." Serena’s face was slightly flushed. Ethan smiled. "This one it is, then." After a pause, he asked, a bit confused, "Why did you want chocolate for your birthday, anyway?" Serena’s eyes immediately welled up. She bit her lip. "I... It’s because I have low blood sugar. I’ve fainted a few times. I asked my mom to buy me some chocolate to keep in my bag, but she told me not to be so dramatic." Ethan was stunned. It took him a moment to process. "It’s okay. From now on, I’ll have some for you." Serena looked at him, then asked tentatively, "I heard... that you used to do that for Harper, too?" Ethan ran a hand through his hair, looking awkward. "That was then. She’s an athlete now, sturdy. She doesn't need to be babied like that." I gripped my backpack strap so hard my knuckles turned white. My whole body went cold. So that’s what he really thought of me. I looked at my own reflection in the window. I wasn't slim. At 135 pounds, next to Serena’s 95, I felt massive. I felt like a linebacker. But I wasn’t always like this. My coach had told me I was too thin, and my low blood sugar was impacting my potential. I had to gain muscle. When I told Ethan back then, he agreed. He piled food on my plate. "I told you you needed to eat more. You passed out on the track last time, remember? From now on, you get my extra dessert." Why was it 'babying' now? Why was I 'sturdy' now? I wiped away my tears and lower my head, running home. I never wanted Ethan's chocolate again. And I didn't want his help, either. 06 When I got home. My mom had a full dinner waiting. She said I was burning too many calories between training and studying, and I needed to replenish. But looking at the beautiful food, I had no appetite. "Mom," I mumbled, "don't make me late-night snacks anymore. I don't want them." Before she could respond, I bolted up the stairs to my room. I buried my face in my pillow and cried, silently this time. I must have cried myself to sleep. That night, I dreamed of when we were kids, right after Ethan moved in. Back then, I was half a head taller than him. He was a crybaby. A little push, and he’d fall over. Yet, he always wanted to play with me. I really didn't like having a shadow who was such a wimp. But one day, some older kids from the neighborhood were bullying him. Hearing him cry, my heart just softened. I rushed in and stood in front of him. "Stop crying! I’ll protect you from now on!" I declared, puffing out my chest. He had tear-filled eyes that made them sparkle like glass. "Harper, I like you. I’ll protect you, too, when I grow up." I was so embarrassed I felt my face burn. Slowly, the little wimp grew into a tall, lean guy. He was the one I had to look up to. He was the one who stood in front of me. In middle school, my body started to change. In the summer, the white school t-shirts were a bit thin, and some obnoxious boys were staring and making jokes. Ethan found out. His face went dark, and he tracked them down, his fist ensuring they’d never open their mouths again. "Harper, don't listen to them. From now on, if anyone comments on your body, I’m putting them in the hospital." I smiled in the dream, reaching out to touch him. But in the next second. The boy in my memory vanished. I woke up, crying. It was just a dream. "Harper, get up! Ethan is here, he’s waiting for you!" my mom yelled from downstairs. I froze, then scrambled to get ready. I saw Ethan leaning lazily against the doorframe, holding a carton of chocolate milk. When he saw me. He shoved the milk into my hand. "What’s wrong with you? You look pathetic. Were you scared to walk home alone last night?" I shoved the milk back into his hand and walked right past him. "No, thanks. I ate breakfast. And you don't need to bring me anything anymore." Ethan stared at the milk in his hand, dumbfounded. It took him a second to recover, yelling at my retreating back, "You just woke up, when could you have eaten?" He caught up and grabbed my backpack strap, his face darkening. "What is your problem this morning? Giving me attitude? I told you, I had something I had to do last night, that’s why I couldn't walk you." I yanked my strap out of his hand. "Got it. We’re going to be late." I put in my earbuds and turned on an English podcast. Blocking him out completely. 07 I stood through the entire morning lecture, trying to focus on my notes. But my stomach was cramping, and my head felt light. I leaned over my desk, gripping my forehead. I should have just eaten breakfast. Pride is fine, but starvation is stupid. A brown paper bag and a few white rabbit candies suddenly appeared on my desk. I turned my head, confused. It was Leo. He glanced at my pale face. "You have low blood sugar. You have to eat." I hesitated, but my stomach made a convincing argument. I took the bag. "Thanks. We just met yesterday, and I keep leaning on you." Leo looked at me with a lazy, half-smile. "It’s not for free. The time for your payback is coming soon." "Huh?" I looked up from the sandwich, confused. He leaned his forehead against his fist, twirling a sketch pencil in his other hand. "Payback... as in, you're going to be my model. Okay?" I almost choked on the sandwich. I swallowed quickly, feeling flustered. "Me? Are you... sure? Don't you think I'm too sturdy? Like a linebacker? Won't that look bad in a drawing?" I looked at him, terrified of his reaction. I was dreading seeing the same look of disgust I saw in Ethan’s eyes. Leo put down his pencil and sat up, looking at me. Like he was looking at his muse. "Your physique has power. It’s a healthy kind of beauty. It’s beautiful." His voice was serious, and his eyes held a sincere appreciation I had never seen before. A strange warmth, both sweet and sharp, spread through me. "Give me ten minutes." Leo picked up his pencil and began sketching furiously. I sat perfectly still, terrified to move. My mind was filled with the image of Leo’s sincere, appreciating gaze. Ten minutes passed in a blur. Leo held the sketch out to me. I had no idea I could look like that. The corners of my eyes stung. I felt like I might cry. Then I noticed a tiny line of text in the bottom right corner of the paper: [Beauty comes in many forms, and you are unique.]
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