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Alejandro was in a terrible mood — but by now, he had been for months.
A constant, heavy bad mood, dense enough to make the entire world feel like an enemy even more than it usually did.
More precisely, ever since Heather Karusa had announced that she was happily dating some random guy from another school.
At first, no one had believed it — not even Alejandro.
Heather Karusa, happily dating? Impossible.
If Heather was in a relationship, she wasn’t “happily taken.” She was “several steps above you on the social ladder.”
But then he — along with practically the entire school — had seen it with his own eyes.
Heather clinging to the arm of some unknown guy at the party of the year, her head tilted toward him, her smile soft, her eyes shining like she’d just won the lottery.
And at that point there were no more doubts: Heather Karusa had a boyfriend. And she was hopelessly, inexplicably in love.
The same Heather who used to shoot murderous looks at anyone unlucky enough to cross her on a bad day now smiled constantly, as if the world had suddenly become a wonderful place.
She had even become a little kinder to other people.
By now, Harold used Heather’s relationship as a distraction whenever she was mad at him.
Harold messed something up or offended Heather? Just before she destroyed him, he’d ask:
“So, how did your date go?”
And voilà — Heather would start talking about the date as if Harold hadn’t just dumped his ant farm into her gym locker.
Or that time Sam had tried to download as many mods as possible for his new video game using the school computer and, for some mysterious reason, had managed to crash only the computer Heather was using for the research project that would decide whether or not she’d have to repeat chemistry the following year.
Heather had been furious — and she was clearly about to murder Sam; everyone knew it — but Sam said:
“Oh, Heather, I saw you on a date with your boyfriend last weekend. You were the most beautiful couple in the place. You looked married.”
And just like that, Heather stopped in her tracks, blushed, and had a perfectly pleasant conversation with Sam about how true that was.
From that moment on, the entire school knew the cheat code (or at least that’s what Sam called it), and everyone used it — much to Alejandro’s irritation.
Heather was also constantly glued to that guy who, in Alejandro’s humble and completely unbiased opinion, was absolutely ugly, awkward, stupid, lacking any future, lacking charm, and so full of flaws that Alejandro was sincerely convinced Heather must have suffered a severe concussion to choose to date that hopeless ugly duckling.
Obviously, no one else shared his opinion — but everyone else was an idiot.
He knew for a fact they were idiots: after all, he’d manipulated them for months without them suspecting a thing, so their opinions were irrelevant and idiotic.
Alejandro couldn’t understand how no one — especially Heather — could fail to see that this John (which, by the way, was already a stupid name) was nothing more than a pathetic insect.
An insect who shouldn’t have even dared to think he could be in a relationship with the goddess that was Heather, let alone walk beside her as if he were on her level.
For starters, he didn’t worship the ground she walked on.
He let her carry her own books (okay, he went to another school, but for Alejandro that had never been a valid excuse).
He only took her shopping on weekends — as if Heather Karusa could be confined to shopping only two days out of seven.
He didn’t offer to carry her around like a bride.
He didn’t constantly shower her with the compliments she obviously deserved.
He didn’t look at her like she was the center of the universe.
And he had so many other flaws that Alejandro, before meeting him, hadn’t even thought it possible for them all to exist in a single person — and yet John had made it happen.
And worst of all — Heather actually seemed to love that sewer rat.
She kissed him in public without shame, cuddled with him in public, told him “I love you” in public as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She defended him. Always. Even when it was obvious he didn’t deserve it.
In Alejandro’s opinion, he never deserved it — but that’s another story.
With him, Heather was a completely different person — sweeter, more patient, even kind.
And that drove Alejandro completely insane.
Of course, he didn’t want her to be unhappy. He wasn’t a monster.
But seriously… why settle for a two when she could have a ten like him?
He was better than John in every conceivable way — looks, intelligence, ambition, presence — and yet Heather had chosen him.
Not Alejandro.
Heather didn’t even look at him anymore.
The only times she spoke to him were when he insulted John — and only to yell at him, with that sharp voice that had become the only reason Alejandro still remembered what she sounded like.
The rest of the time, she was too busy loving John to have any energy left to hate Alejandro.
---
But Alejandro simply couldn’t get over the fact that John had so many flaws and that no one seemed to notice.
For example, John didn’t bow to Heather every time he saw her.
Not a half-bow. Not even a hint. Nothing.
He just showed up and greeted her like she was a normal person — like he wasn’t talking to Heather Karusa. THE Heather Karusa.
Alejandro had observed the scene multiple times, with near-scientific precision, waiting in vain for John to realize his mistake.
He never did.
When Alejandro pointed this out to Noah one day while they were stuck working on a project together, Noah had looked at him strangely before shaking his head and going back to work, muttering something that sounded like “Stalkingdelicious.”
But Noah understood nothing about romance — after all, his idea of romance with Emma was the library — so Alejandro scoffed and moved on.
Second: John didn’t always open the door for her.
Sometimes he did, sure, just enough to maintain a veneer of decency — but other times he didn’t.
Other times he just walked through first, as if Heather were perfectly capable of opening a door on her own.
Which, obviously, wasn’t the point.
This made Alejandro furious.
I mean, the bare minimum — and that sewer rat couldn’t even manage that?
When he complained about it to Geoff, Geoff asked how he even knew, considering John went to a different school.
Alejandro ignored him and reminded him that Bridgette had wanted to kiss him in a freezer while she was still dating Geoff.
Third: John didn’t look at her enough.
Not in the right way, at least. Not the way you look at something precious, fragile, irreplaceable.
He looked at her like she was… normal. Like she wasn’t a miracle descended from heaven.
When Alejandro said this to Gwen, she looked at him in confusion before replying sarcastically:
“More like a curse that crawled out of hell.”
But Gwen didn’t understand anything.
Okay, maybe a little — considering she was in one of the most stable relationships at school — but she was in love with a normal guy, not a miracle like Heather.
So Alejandro forgave her mistake. Just this once.
Fourth: John had the horrible habit of not immediately stopping whatever he was doing the exact moment Heather spoke.
Sometimes he finished a sentence.
A sentence.
As if the words of the most beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, and funny woman in the world could wait.
As if John mattered.
When Alejandro pointed this out in horror to Shawn (look, Alejandro’s list of friends was very short, so eventually he had to resort to random people, okay?), Shawn — who, even if he wasn’t popular or normal, was still in a stable, happy relationship — said with concern:
“Dude. Are you turning into an obsessive zombie? Is the apocalypse starting?”
That was when Alejandro remembered that Shawn was insane — and his girlfriend even more insane for falling in love with him and apparently Jasmine was also nosy and completely missing the point, because she added:
“How do you even know so much about Heather and John’s relationship? She obviously doesn’t tell you anything, and you’d only think these things after watching their interactions over time. But John doesn’t go to this school.”
But what could you expect from a girl who couldn’t decide whether to open a flower shop or go into cage fighting business after graduation?
Clearly she had issues making normal choices and understanding balance.
So really, Alejandro was to blame for talking to them in the first place.
---
“And then you know what he did?”
“What?”
“He asked her, ‘Are you cold?’”
“He asked her if she was cold on a cold day? Completely insane.”
“I know! Obviously Heather was cold. It doesn’t take a genius.”
“Obviously.”
“And then you know what he did?”
“Did he do something worse?”
“Yes!”
“Unbelievable.”
“And you won’t believe this — he didn’t give her his jacket.”
“Horror and tragedy.”
“I know! How can someone be so useless? What the hell is the point of a jacket if you don’t give it to the woman you love when she’s cold?”
“To keep yourself warm is a pretty solid answer, actually.”
“Heather comes first. Then the world.”
“Hey, I get prioritizing the person you love. But from what you told me, Heather wasn’t even wearing a thermal jacket. That’s on her — fashion over warmth is stupid. And it’s not like this is her first time dealing with Canadian temperatures. She should already know what comes first.”
“She couldn’t find a jacket that matched her boots that wasn’t from last season’s collection.”
“Again, horror and tragedy.”
“Exactly. That’s why Heather should go shopping every day and not just on weekends. John doesn’t understand her and he’s clipping her wings, and the fact that Heather was cold was that disgusting rat’s fault. Son of a massive puta.”
“I still think it’s Heather’s fault. Coats are beautiful, comfortable, warm, and have spacious pockets.”
“You know a lot about spacious pockets, you little kleptomaniac.”
The camera pulls back to reveal Alejandro holding MK by the ankles and shaking her while she tries — unsuccessfully — to free herself. Random objects fall out of her hidden pockets, including bolts.
“They’re one of my favorite things. Well, along with Julia’s eyes. They look like amethysts. I’d steal them,” MK said, still struggling. Physical activity had never been her strength, so she switched to trying to kick Alejandro’s ankles — also unsuccessfully.
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Alejandro said, mildly surprised, still shaking the kleptomaniac who had self-control but no morals.
“I try. And her eyes are one of the reasons I stole your necklace with the deer, dead ass.”
Alejandro shook her harder at that, and several Nintendo consoles — probably belonging to Sam — fell out.
“Family crest. And it’s a bull. And I don’t think it’s Julia’s style.”
“It isn’t, but silver is, so I was going to melt it down and make a necklace or something for my Juliwelry.”
“That sounds weirdly sweet, but also: WHY MY STUFF? Just buy silver.”
“Not all of us are the children of politicians.”
“Oh, please. You could rob a bank and you can rob someone who won’t recognize you.”
“Aww, how sweet of you,” MK said sarcastically. “But being able to meke fun of you while Julia shows off her new jewelry is our love language.”
In the end, Alejandro got his family crest back and left, abandoning MK on the floor with blood in her head.
---
And as if those grave, unforgivable, and definitely-not-exaggerated flaws weren’t enough, John kept collecting defects with almost offensive ease.
For instance, he didn’t send her good morning texts every single day.
Some days he did — sure — but other days he didn’t.
As if Heather Karusa could wake up without a written declaration of her worth.
And when he did send them, they were short.
Normal.
No hearts. No poetry. No eternal promises.
No mention of her being Beatrice and him Dante, and of Paradise existing solely to welcome her.
None of that.
Just functional words, as if he were talking to any random human being.
When Alejandro shared these concerns with Trent, Trent looked a little lost — and just as Alejandro thought he’d found someone else who didn’t get it, Trent spoke calmly:
“Well, that’s actually not great, considering it’s an important part of the relationship, especially since they go to different schools and can really only see each other on weekends.”
Alejandro’s heart swelled — finally, someone understood.
“But how exactly do YOU know these things?”
And with that, Alejandro lost all hope again and walked away.
John also had the habit of not answering Heather’s calls immediately.
Sometimes he let the phone ring.
Once — and Alejandro remembered it perfectly — he called back after ten minutes.
Ten.
The horror Alejandro felt — and always would feel — watching Heather’s face darken with sadness as the seconds passed and her boyfriend didn’t answer was indescribable.
It was unbearable to witness, and Alejandro wanted to kill that bastard.
For the next ten minutes, he and Lindsay tried their best to cheer Heather up: he made clever, sharp jokes, and Lindsay… well, Lindsay confused everyone with her stupidity.
Nothing worked.
And Alejandro’s spirit cracked every time Heather checked her phone, hoping for a call or a message.
Then her eyes lit up when John’s name appeared on the screen, followed by a red heart emoji.
In that moment, Alejandro was happy and destroyed at the same time.
“So yeah, basically, I think that sewer rat is just disrespectful and a massive idiot.”
He looked at the other two: Vito and Anne Maria.
They weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but they had a stable, healthy relationship — so maybe they’d understand.
They didn’t.
Anne Maria said, “Look, Alejandro. I’ll admit I’m the clingy one in my relationship.”
“You’re not clingy, doll. You’re perfectly cuddly, and a man like me loves being wanted by a beautiful woman.”
Anne Maria smiled at her boyfriend and gave him a kiss more chaste than usual, then turned back to look at Alejandro, surprised that the two hadn’t started making out, forgetting about him.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “I admit I’m the clingy type and I get upset if my man doesn’t answer the phone. But there’s balance. You can’t realistically expect someone to be constantly available. A relationship has two people, two lives, and sometimes one of them is busy. And honestly, sometimes there are other priorities than answering your partner.”
Alejandro was about to interrupt, but Vito cut in with a threatening tone:
“Don’t talk over my lady, man.”
Remembering that Vito was thin but very strong, Alejandro shut up and listened.
"Those priorities, for example, safety. Maybe John doesn’t respond when he’s driving or walking down the street, and it would be dangerous to stop to text or call someone—not to mention rude."
Alejandro resisted the urge to point out that he’d seen Anne Maria do exactly that.
“So yeah, there needs to be balance. And between you and John, it seems like John has found it. You want him to always be at Heather’s disposal — but no one can do that. It’s unrealistic. And promising something like that will only hurt someone, because you won’t always be able to keep it. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll understand why Heather made the right choice choosing John instead of you.”
Those last words made Alejandro’s mouth fall open as Vito praised his girlfriend’s wisdom and Anne Maria basked in the compliments.
Alejandro, meanwhile, was furious.
How could Anne Maria say Heather had been right to choose John over him?
So, like everything involving Heather, it made Alejandro lose his temper.
He stood slowly and looked them in the eyes.
First, to Vito:
“You’re a clinical case. Just like your brother.”
Then to Anne Maria:
“You are just a cheap whore.”
That earned him a punch from Vito and a slap from Anne Maria — but Alejandro blocked the follow-up blows, and the two ended up in detention, because Alejandro was very good at manipulating teachers.
---
And then there was the way John dressed when he went out with Heather.
Not elegant enough.
Not impeccable enough.
Not something that made heads turn and made Heather proud.
He didn’t fix his hair to make sure he was worthy of walking beside her.
He didn’t check his reflection in shop windows.
He didn’t seem remotely aware that he was representing Heather Karusa in public.
“I mean, he wore a mustard-colored turtleneck sweater while Heather was ethereal in her fiery red cardigan. That man has no sense of style, respect, or basic decency. I can’t believe Heather fell this low,” Alejandro complained while pacing the track with Jo and Brick.
Brick seemed to be listening.
Jo clearly wanted to punch him in the throat.
Alejandro didn’t care about the opinion of someone who only wore gray tracksuits and had the haircut of a twelve-year-old with daddy issues.
He was there to talk to Brick, who — despite always dressing in military style — had a surprisingly good eye for fashion.
And even though Brick had terrible taste in women (according to Alejandro and, honestly, most of the school), at least they could agree on John’s atrocious style.
For a while, they did.
Brick asked for details, frowned at certain color choices, and tried to criticize gently — though it was obvious he wasn’t thrilled.
It was a pleasant conversation.
Occasionally interrupted by Jo asking stupid, pointless questions.
“How did you know they were at that restaurant Alestalker?”
“Why do you know so many details about Heather’s wardrobe Creepjandro?”
“Do you really have to hang out with us Alelone?”
Alejandro ignored her. Brick didn’t seem to care.
Eventually, they took a break and sat on a bench.
Jo blithely ignored them, clearly believing herself superior. On other occasions, Alejandro would point out that Jo was perfectly free to leave and that she would be with her boyfriend at another time, so there was no need to cling to them like a shadow.
But this time he held back. Brick was a coward, but he wouldn’t let you pick a fight with his girlfriend without a good reason.
At one point, Alejandro asked Brick's opinion on John, expecting harsh words. Not insults, but at least an agreement with him that John was an embarrassment to Heather.
But everyone had been against Alejandro for months, and Brick, it seemed, had joined the club.
“I wouldn’t call him an embarrassment,” Brick said confidently. “Sure, you and I — as fashion enthusiasts — might say his style choices aren’t great. But style is personal. And it’s not like he was dressed inappropriately for the occasion. Not to mention he might not have the option to dress differently.”
Alejandro looked confused, so Brick explained:
“I’d like to wear brighter colors, ones traditionally seen as more feminine, but my mother doesn’t allow it. And as long as I live under her roof, it’s her rules. So I don’t feel right judging a seventeen-year-old who’s still figuring himself out — especially one who might face serious backlash from his guardians over clothing choices.”
After a pause, he added:
“So my advice is to keep your opinions to yourself. Or, if you really want to trash someone’s outfits, talk to Julia or Bowie.”
That made Alejandro scowl.
Maybe he would’ve agreed — if he hadn’t personally seen John buy a plaid jacket with a rainbow embroidery that read “the most beautiful man in the world.”
When he told Brick, Brick shuddered but shrugged.
“As I said, style is personal. It changes.”
Alejandro was about to argue when Jo interrupted.
“Look, Alestupid. Stop whining and accept that Heather is in love. Maybe he’s not perfect for her, but at least he had the balls to confess his feelings. You hid behind flirting with Heather’s friends and enemies alike, and insulting her with the occasional compliment. Between you and Anne Maria — you’re the cheap whore.”
The last line was delivered with extra venom.
Sometimes Alejandro forgot how diverse Jo and Brick's group of friends was. He didn't even remember that Jo was on good terms with them.
But Jo kept going:
“John may not be the love of her life, but I can assure you, neither are you.”
Alejandro stared at her, stunned.
First a cheap whore, now not worthy of Heather at all — that was the worst insult he’d ever received.
And judging by Brick’s silence, he agreed.
So Alejandro exploded on them, just like he had with Vito and Anne Maria.
"I'm not going to let a woman with no class or beauty and a guy who get pegs by her any day of the year and is a total bedwetter comment on how I handle my relationships. The only reason you two are together is because no one else would want your kind of shit.”
That earned him the wrath of both Jo and Brick. Jo started hitting him, Brick backing her up.
They were clearly more experienced fighting together than Vito and Anne Maria — and if Lightning hadn’t intervened, they probably would’ve won and Alejandro would’ve lost his pretty face.
The fight was broken up, and once again Alejandro emerged with his school reputation intact, because everyone knew Jo always started fights.
---
And finally — the unforgivable flaw.
John didn’t seem remotely terrified of losing her.
He didn’t live in constant fear of not being enough.
He didn’t cling to her like someone might steal her away at any second.
He walked beside her like he *deserved* her.
And to Alejandro, that wasn’t just a flaw.
It was an unforgivable crime.
For the first few months, Alejandro had tried to make her see she could do better.
Not directly, of course. He wasn’t stupid, and Heather wasn’t someone who backed down easily.
He stuck to casual comments. Seemingly harmless observations. Lines tossed out with carefully practiced nonchalance.
Like:
“Oh, John’s late again? It’s becoming a habit,” he’d say with a laugh, then offer to wait with her.
Or:
“John’s wearing that jacket again? He must really like it. I admire his courage in putting it on.”
Comments that, to an outside ear, sounded harmless. Maybe a little teasing, but nothing truly cruel.
At first, Heather only responded with sharp, warning looks. She wasn’t the type to pick a fight just because someone pointed out her boyfriend was almost always late.
But when the subtle jabs stopped working, Alejandro escalated.
“Your bargain-bin boyfriend still hasn’t shown up, Heather?”
Or:
“You know, Jessica and I went to that place yesterday. They don’t let in riffraff.”
And damn if Heather didn’t get angry. She defended John like he was the most important thing in the world — and that killed Alejandro.
He couldn’t understand why, out of everyone, Heather wasted breath and energy defending that worthless nobody. But what hurt the most was this: one of the reasons he kept making those comments was because the only time Heather paid attention to him anymore was when he insulted her boyfriend.
The rest of the time, to her, he didn’t exist.
And that destroyed him every day.
And then there were the worst cases.
The ones where Alejandro pushed too far. Or Heather was already having a particularly bad day. Her face would turn red like a ripe chili pepper, her breathing short, her hands trembling slightly — as if her body were physically rejecting the idea that John might not be perfect. She always looked on the verge of fainting.
In those moments, Alejandro would stop commenting for a few days.
Then he’d start again.
But once, he went too far.
Because once, Heather actually fainted.
It happened in the hallway, in front of far too many people. Alejandro had made one joke too many — a more explicit comment, something about John that should never have been said out loud.
Heather had screamed, shouted, insulted him. Her face had turned almost blue from lack of air, and then she collapsed.
Panic erupted immediately.
Screams. Someone yelling her name. People running.
Someone called an ambulance.
Alejandro stood frozen, his heart pounding in his ears, staring at Heather lying on the floor — pale, completely still.
They rushed her to the hospital.
When Alejandro showed up with flowers to apologize, he found her kissing John on the hospital bed.
Not a quick kiss.
A slow, intense one, as if the world around them didn’t exist.
And as if that weren’t humiliating enough, Heather pulled away from John only to look at Alejandro with an icy stare and tell him he had to apologize to him too.
To John.
And Alejandro did.
He spoke the words through clenched teeth, his chest burning, his stomach tight, feeling smaller than he ever had in his life.
Because he had never felt worse.
Not in his entire existence.
After that episode, everyone told him to stop.
Friends, classmates, even people he barely spoke to.
Heather had practically traumatized the entire school — the screaming, the fainting, the ambulance parked at the entrance.
But honestly, no one even needed to tell him.
Alejandro had already promised himself — with a seriousness that scared him — that he would never again do anything that might hurt her.
Even if that meant hurting himself.
So for months now, he had been forced to endure Heather and John kissing in the most absurd places.
If before he followed them by choice, now they simply appeared in front of him in the most ridiculous locations. Their couple photos infested social media: smiles, hugs, unbearably saccharine captions.
And at parties… at parties it was even worse.
He caught them once in a situation he wished he had been part of with Heather — not just a spectator.
That moment destroyed him so completely that he stopped going to parties altogether.
He stopped going out.
Stopped looking for distractions.
Because even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself,
watching Heather belong to someone else was consuming him.