Part 3The Girl Who Burned

Five years ago, his family of three moved into the apartment above mine.

Liam found me standing alone at my door late at night without a key.

Without a word, he dragged me to his house for dinner.

My mom left, my dad was busy working. I became a regular at his family's dinner table.

Although I was a year older, I was sensitive and introverted.

He was a social butterfly who could chat up a dog.

Thanks to his tireless thick skin, for the first time ever, I had a real friend.

He was exceptionally good to me. Sometimes he would give up playing basketball with a group of friends just to walk home with me, the loner.

So rumors started spreading in school that he liked me.

The short-haired girls who liked to form cliques couldn't sit still.

They cornered me after school, mocking and sarcastic.

"Look in the mirror. Do you think you deserve him?"

"Who gave you the confidence?"

I dared not conflict, because there was no one behind me.

To put it bluntly, no backer.

I lowered my head and tried to leave.

It was Liam who grabbed me, followed by a group of boys who just finished playing ball.

His shirt front was slightly damp, holding a basketball, a lazy smile on his lips.

"I think you look like a potato, but aren't you quite confident too?"

"You!"

The short-haired girl turned red with anger at being insulted by a boy younger than her, unable to utter a sentence for a long time.

"You you you, you what?"

"Go home and eat your brains, you can't even speak properly."

In those days, I experienced the security of being carefully guarded, although brief.