Mike approached Christina, who was curled up on the edge of the jetty, her chin nestled between her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.
He sat down a few inches away, leaving a respectful distance between them. He wouldn't want to risk getting close to her in her current state.
As he gazed at her sideways, he cleared his throat, obviously to announce his presence. But she didn't budge.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Christina glanced at him, her face reddening.
"I want to be alone," she hissed. "You already know I'm in my DND mode. Don't you know the consequences of approaching me whenever I'm in this state?"
Mike nodded, unfazed. "Yeah, I'm well aware, but that's just a school thing," he said. "Whatever consequences you're threatening me with don't apply here. Right now, you're just a normal sad girl sitting alone on the jetty."
Christina stood up. "Talking to you is pointless," she spat in exasperation. "You're just a greenhorn, completely detached from reality."
Mike sighed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Greenhorn? Me?"
"Stay away from me, sucker!" Christina yelled, turning to leave. But Mike reached out, gently grasping her arm to pull her back.
"Whatever you're feeling right now won't last forever," he said, his eyes locking onto hers as she turned to give him an expression of what seemed like a mixture of surprise and disgust.
"You don't have to bear all of it alone," Mike added. Even he tried to stop himself, but there's no turning back.
He wondered what had aroused this sudden interest and concern within him.
"What do you know about how I'm feeling?" Christina shouted, snatching her hand free from his grasp. "Stay away from me, now that I'm asking nicely."
Asking nicely indeed!
She turned to leave, but Mike's next words halted her.
"I know it has something to do with your mom."
Christina's body froze, her back still turned to him. Cold wind blew across the pier as she struggled to contain her emotions.
She swiveled around after a while, her eyes filled with intensity that made Mike's neck flushed.
"How did you know that?" she demanded. "Who told you about my mom?"
Mike held out her gold chain, its locket glinting in the fading light. "You dropped this when we bumped into each other earlier in school," he explained. "Before I got downstairs to return it you were already gone, and—"
He paused, shooting up his hand defensively. "I didn't mean to pry into your personal life, but I had to be sure it belonged to you, so I opened the locket."
Christina's gaze dropped to the chain, her expression softening slightly.
Meanwhile, Stefan and Rachael observed from a distance, curious, as they should be.
"I knew it, he wouldn't last a minute with the school queen!" Stefan said. "She's going to devour him whole."
Rachael furrowed her brows. "Wait a minute, she's going back to him. Maybe he said something to diffuse the tension."
"Or perhaps he said something deserving of a slap. That's more likely," Stefan replied.
Rachael shook her head. "I don't think so," she said and turned to Stefan. "I believe he told us earlier not to wait for him, remember?"
"Hmm-Mmm," Stefan nodded. "I think we should leave now, or else we'll be wasting our time here." He glanced at Mike's direction and scoffed. "Dammit, did he use his bat's power on her?"
"We can't be sure."
"Eh? Say, Rachael, how else could he have tamed the school queen?"
"Do you even believe his nonsensical fantasy?"
"He's your brother, Rachael!"
"So?"
"It hurts me to hear you don't believe him despite the phenomenon surrounding him."
"Prepare to be more heartbroken."
Stefan shook his head and smirked. "I'll pass."
Rachael stared at him sideways. "Let's just go," she urged.
***
"I thought I'd lost it!" Christina exclaimed, relief in her voice as she hastily walked toward Mike. She snatched the chain from him, her fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline.
"Bottling up everything inside will only eat you away and bring you more pain!" Mike called out as she continued towards her car. "Blurt it out, and I promise it will lessen your grief. You don't have to carry this burden alone, Christina."
Christina slowed her pace. She turned around, her eyes welling up with tears. "Leave me alone!" she said, her words trembled on her lips.
But Mike didn't back down. He slowly began to approach her. "I know you're in pain, and that's not a crime," he said. "It's not something to be ashamed of. You laugh when you're happy. Cry when you're sad too, don't suppress it. Everyone has their own flaws, a deep scar hidden underneath their visible skin."
Christina's facade crumbled. Mike's words must've struck a chord within her. She broke down, tears streaming down her face.
Mike knelt down beside her, patting her gently on her back.
Christina turned and gave him a long intense stare. Her gaze was so unwavering, and Mike began to have a strange feeling about this, when her face dropped to the ground.
"I don't know what to do anymore, I really don't," she sobbed, her body shuddering.
"You're going to be alright," Mike whispered softly, a soothing balm to her fractured soul. "Everything is going to be fine. Hang in there."
As she wept, Mike remained at her side. His expression was neutral and non-judgmental.
In that moment, Christina felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in her darkness. Maybe someone cared enough to listen, to understand, and to help her heal.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt seen, heard, and understood.
A few moments later, Christina stood up and wiped her tears.
"How do you feel now?" Mike asked, staring at her. But she averted her face.
"You don't have to be embarrassed, I cry too when I'm sad," he said, allowing a small smile to escape his lips.
"I feel much better now, thanks," Christina replied briefly, still avoiding eye contact with him. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
As she turned away, her foot slipped on the pier's edge, and she almost tumbled into the river. But Mike's reflexes kicked in, and he grasped her arm, pulling her back to safety.
The sudden physical contact triggered a flood of memories in Mike's mind, transporting him back 13 years to their elementary school days.
He remembered Anita, his six-year-old friend, with whom he shared laughter and adventures.
Christina, on the other hand, was a mysterious figure, always keeping to herself. Then, her eyes seemed to hold a deep sadness, but her expression was always cold and unreadable.
Then, one fateful day, Anita went missing. The school erupted into chaos as teachers and staff scoured the premises, searching for the little girl.
But earlier that day, Christina's behavior changed dramatically; she became aggressive and hostile, isolating herself further.
Mike recalled the sense of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach as he joined the search party. They finally found Anita on the rooftop, but what happened next was etched in Mike's memory forever.
Anita's screams echoed through the corridors as she tumbled down the stairs leading from the rooftop. Mike watched in horror as she rolled from step to step, her small body bouncing and twisting in ways that seemed impossible. Her arms and legs flailed wildly, but she couldn't stop her fall.
Time seemed to slow as Anita's cries grew fainter, her body crumpling on each step. Mike's heart raced, his feet frozen in place. Tears gushed down his eyes as guilt and helplessness overwhelmed him, powerless to stop the tragedy unfolding before him.
Christina was standing on the rooftop, watching as Anita continued to fall, her eyes portraying no emotion.
Finally, Anita came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, her body limp and still. Mike's vision blurred as tears streamed down his face.
The school's medical staff rushed Anita away, and that was the last time Mike ever saw or heard from her.
Christina never denied her interaction with Anita, nor accepted it. The incident was swept under the rug, and Mike assumed Christina's influential father was behind it.
That traumatic event forged a deep-seated hatred within Mike toward Christina. He couldn't understand why she had harmed his friend and showed no remorse.
The pain and anger simmered beneath the surface, shaping his perception of Christina as a cruel and heartless person.
Now, as Mike held Christina's arm, the long-forgotten memories resurfaced, rekindling his hatred for her. He saw a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes; the same eyes that once seemed cold and expressionless now held a deep sadness.
His grip on Christina's arm tightened, his gaze intensified, and his heart pounded in his chest. The past and present collided, sparking his determination to uncover the truth.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Christina's voice broke the spell, returning Mike to reality.
"You think a few tears will erase the past?" he snarled, releasing her arm. He couldn't bring himself to ask what happened 13 years ago, to hear her say she killed Anita, so he turned around and began to leave.
"Do you still believe I pushed Anita down the stairs?" Christina shouted, her eyes welling up with tears.
Mike spun around, his jaw clenched. "Are you going to deny it now, after 13 years?"
"I didn't push her, Mike. I know you won't believe me, but it's the truth," Christina said. "Anita wasn't just any ordinary 6-year-old. She was hurting, trying to escape her pain."
Mike's expression twisted in anger. "You expect me to believe a 6-year-old was attempting suicide?"
"Why do you think she was on the rooftop, knowing it's off-limits? She was desperate to be alone, to escape the agony. Her father was sentenced to life for killing her mother, and she knew the suffering ahead of her if her uncle took her in. She was lost, Mike."
"That's nonsense! She was too young to understand suicide!"
"You don't know what Anita was going through. Her smile hid the truth. She was broken, Mike. And I... I didn't push her."
Mike's eyes narrowed, uncertainty creeping in. Could Christina be telling the truth? Was Anita's fall more complex than he thought?
"That's absurd, Christina," he said finally. "I can't even bring myself to understand what you're saying. You expect me to believe Anita went to the rooftop to kill herself?"
"I was also there for the same reason!" Christina confessed, her voice cracking. "Wasn't I too young as well? You never knew what pain was, Mike. People mature faster when they face life's cruelty at a tender age. You can't compare yourself to Anita and me, who faced family horrors as children."
Mike stood speechless, tears streaming down his face.
"Anita saved my life," Christina continued, her voice lowering. "She told me to live for both of us, and that she would do the dying. Her words, though spoken by a child, held wisdom beyond her years. I was young, naive, and couldn't know better. I watched as she gave up her life, rolling down those stairs."
"Young? Naive? Didn't you mature faster?"
"This is not a joke, Mike. We're just scared to face the cruelty of this world."
Mike's tears flowed freely. "She died?" he asked.
Christina nodded, her own tears falling. "Internal injuries and a skull fracture. She passed away before they could take her to the hospital."
"Why didn't you speak up when asked? Why didn't you explain what happened?"
"Who would've believed me? How could I have explained that she died for us both? That she chose to end her life?"
Mike saw the depth of Christina's pain and collapsed to the ground.
"You could've told me. You could've tried to convince me," he said.
"That wouldn't change the fact that she died because of me," Christina sobbed. "I should've told her not to give up. I should've persuaded her to keep living. She died because of me."
"I'm so sorry," Mike whispered. "I resented you for 13 years, fueled by false assumptions. I was blind to your pain."
At that moment, Mike understood the weight of Christina's secret and the burden she carried.
Their shared tears would definitely wash away years of misunderstanding and forge a new bond between them.