When Hate Writes Back
Chapter 6 — Little Mirrors
I didn't want to admit it, but school was starting to feel… complicated. Every time I thought I could hate him without exception, he said or did something that mirrored what my pen pal would say.
Yesterday, he'd noticed I was struggling with the math assignment — he hadn't offered help, just nudged me with a comment so subtle I didn't even know if it was advice or mockery. My pen pal would always know the perfect words to guide me, and somehow, Keifer was doing the same thing — in the most infuriating, eye-roll-inducing way.
At lunch, I leaned across the table to Estelle. "It's weird," I whispered, "he… he almost… acts like my pen pal sometimes."
Estelle's eyes sparkled. "Oooh, the mysterious, annoying boy is actually a mystery. I love this. Are you… noticing what I'm noticing?"
"No!" I hissed. "He's still the guy I hate. I'm not imagining things."
And yet… I couldn't shake it. Every small act of consideration, every perfectly timed remark — it echoed the words I typed to my pen pal, words I had read again and again, words that had comforted me when everything else felt wrong.
That night, I logged into my pen pal chat. Fingers trembling slightly, I typed:
"Sometimes I think he's… acting like you. The boy at school. I know it sounds crazy, but it's uncanny. He's irritating, infuriating… and somehow, he also knows exactly what to say."
The reply came instantly:
"People are strange, El. You'll see that soon enough. Sometimes the world gives us the same lesson twice, in two different forms."
I blinked at the screen, heart pounding. Lesson twice, two forms… What did that even mean?
I closed the laptop and let out a frustrated sigh. My pen pal was right, as usual, but it didn't make things any less confusing. Especially when the boy I hated was unknowingly mimicking all the things I adored about the boy I loved.
Oblivious. Completely oblivious.