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Damian is proud to say that he is one of Anya Forger's close friends.
It still seemed strange to think about it. Sometimes, when he found himself reflecting on his own life, Damian had a hard time believing how much things had changed in so few years. If someone had told his six-year-old self all of this, he probably would have been deeply offended by the mere idea.
At that time, his pride would not allow something like this. Anya Forger was just the girl who had dared to stand up to him, who had turned a humiliating situation into something Damian could never forget. For years, the two carried that first impression as if it was impossible to leave it behind.
And in a way, they really didn't succeed.
For almost ten years, Anya and Damian spent much of their time teasing, arguing, and trying to outdo each other. What started as a childish fight ended up becoming a kind of rivalry that accompanied the two for much of their childhood.
Damian Desmond, now sixteen, was genuinely happy that the relationship between the two had changed. Perhaps it was not as grand a transformation as an outsider might have imagined. They were still arguing. They still managed to irritate each other with impressive ease. There were still times when Damian wanted to just send Anya away.
But they no longer hated each other.
And, considering their past, that already meant a lot.
The strangest thing was that Damian couldn't even pinpoint exactly when it had happened. There was no specific moment that he could choose and say: this is where we started to be friends.
The change simply happened gradually, almost without them realizing it.
One day, Anya stopped being just the girl he wanted to surpass.
And at some point after that, she became his friend.
But he couldn't deny that, somewhere deep inside himself, there was a part that wanted them to be more than just friends.
And it disturbed him much more than Damian would like to admit.
He had already accepted, long ago, that he truly loved Anya Forger. It may have taken him years to admit it to himself, but there was no escaping the truth anymore. It wasn't just affection, admiration, or the result of having spent so much time together. It was love. A feeling that had quietly grown as Damian was too busy trying to figure out when, exactly, Anya had gone from being his rival to becoming someone so important in his life.
He loved his charisma, that unique way of living things as if he could find some fun in even the most absurd situations. He loved his smile, so bright that sometimes Damian would find himself staring for too long before he realized what he was doing.
She loved her laugh, so contagious that it was practically impossible not to smile when she started laughing at something. She loved her hair, so beautiful and flowing, especially when the wind made it move around her face.
And his eyes...
Damian was sure he had never seen such beautiful eyes in his entire life. They were green, like emeralds, but even that comparison didn't seem enough. For him, no emerald in the world could compare to those eyes. There was something about them that simply made Damian forget what he was thinking whenever Anya stared at him for too long.
He also loved those little things that probably no one else paid attention to.
Like the habit of eating peanuts when I was nervous.
How, somehow, she always seemed to know exactly what to say when someone needed to feel better, even if her words were awkward or completely unexpected.
How he managed to make the people around him smile without even realizing that he was doing it.
Even his skin, as thin and pure as ivory, was something Damian had learned to notice.
And that was precisely the problem.
He had begun to notice too many things.
Things that a simple friend probably shouldn't notice.
And when he realized this, Damian felt his face heat up and immediately tried to push those thoughts away.
Because, if he was completely honest with himself, he would do anything to get at least one kiss from Any───
"BOSS" The voice came suddenly, completely interrupting her reverie.
Damian practically jumped in his chair. His thoughts of Anya vanished in an instant, replaced by the surprise of having someone practically scream in his ears. He turned his head quickly in the direction of the voice, finding Ewen standing next to him.
Ewen was one of his longtime friends. Someone who had known him long enough to recognize when Damian was distracted, angry, tired, or, as at that moment, completely lost inside his own head.
"What was that for, Ewen?" asked Damian, indignantly, putting one hand to his ear.
It wasn't exactly common for Ewen to scream like that in his ears. Mainly because Damian wasn't doing anything wrong. At least, not that he knew.
Ewen, on the other hand, seemed much less concerned about his friend's outrage.
"Boss, you've been looking at nothing in a very strange way for 15 minutes, class is over and you're still sitting there... again" The last words carried a considerable amount of exasperation.
Damian blinked a few times.
"Ah...." Only then did he finally look around.
The room was empty.
There were no more students talking to each other, no teacher organizing materials, no movement through the corridors that could indicate that the class had recently ended.
Nothing.
He had actually been there for fifteen minutes without realizing it.
Damian looked at his watch and felt a small twinge of embarrassment.
Again.
That was starting to happen too often.
"I get it... sorry, I was lost in thought," Damian said, as he got up from his chair and began to escort Ewen back to the dorms.
Neither of them spoke again about what had happened.
In part, because it was already becoming relatively common since the beginning of the new school year. Ewen had already gotten used to those moments when Damian simply stopped what he was doing and seemed to disappear inside his own head.
As he walked beside Ewen, his steps were almost automatic. He made his way back to the dormitories without paying much attention to his surroundings.
"I really am becoming a lost cause," he muttered.
On the one hand, there was something strangely comforting about that feeling. Thinking about her made Damian feel a happiness that was difficult to explain. It was enough to remember her smile, her voice or some little thing she had done for her chest to fill with a warm and pleasant sensation.
But at the same time, that same feeling managed to completely disconnect him from reality.
It was scary.
Sometimes, Damian would start thinking about Anya and simply forget where he was. He didn't realize how much time had passed, he didn't hear what was happening around him and he didn't even notice when someone tried to get his attention.
And that wasn't even the worst.
The worst was the fear of being caught staring at her.
Damian didn't even want to imagine how embarrassing it would be if Anya realized that he had been staring at her for too long. The mere thought was enough to make him feel his face heat up.
And even worse, there was not even a real hope that it could result in anything.
Because, as much as it hurt to admit, that love was not reciprocated.
Anya didn't see him the same way.
To her, Damian was her friend.
Damian knew that Anya would always see him as a close friend.
After all, how else could she see someone with whom she had spent so many years fighting?
For much of their lives, the two had been rivals. They argued over just about anything, teased each other, and seemed to find new reasons to get angry every day. Even after they became friends, some of these discussions were still part of their relationship.
Damian didn't like to think about it too much.
Mainly because, whenever I thought too much, I ended up coming to the same conclusion.
Anya liked him.
But I liked him as a friend.
And as much as it hurt, Damian would rather have Anya in his life like that than risk losing her completely.
They were friends now.
True friends.
And even with the occasional arguments, neither of them had said or done anything that could destroy that new relationship they had built with so much effort.
Damian didn't want to be responsible for ruining it.
So she decided she needed to do something to control her feelings before they got out of her control.
He wanted to preserve that friendship at all costs.
This is how, over time, Damian painstakingly created a sort of self-coping system to use whenever his feelings for Anya began to become unbearable.
It was not complicated at all.
In fact, it consisted only of a few simple questions he asked himself.
Questions that should help you distinguish what was really happening from what your own passion made your mind imagine.
Whenever he started to think too much about Anya, Damian resorted to that little system.
It was his way of putting his feet on the ground.
To remind himself that she was his friend.
And, above all, to prevent her feelings from destroying the only thing he had managed to build with her after so many years.
Does Anya know what love is?
The answer to this question was pretty obvious: a big no.
Damian considered Anya to be the densest girl he knew when it came to romance. Honestly, he couldn't understand how she hadn't realized what was going on around her yet, especially after so many students had come out to her over the years.
And there were not a few confessions.
Several boys had already worked up the courage to say they liked her, only to receive such a direct and brutal refusal that, most of the time, Anya didn't even seem to realize the size of the damage she had caused.
She didn't mean it badly.
That was precisely the problem.
Anya just didn't seem to understand that those boys were in love with her. For Damian, it was almost unbelievable. How could someone receive so many utterances and yet not realize the meaning behind them?
A small part of him was happy with that.
None of those boys had managed to win her heart.
But another part was very sad.
Because, if Anya was unable to perceive the feelings of all those boys who had declared themselves directly to her, then what would happen if he tried to do the same?
The idea of confessing her own feelings was scary in itself. Knowing that Anya could probably just look at him with that confused expression and not understand what he was trying to say made it even worse.
At least those boys had been brave.
Damian needed to admit it.
They had done what he couldn't do.
They had put their feelings into words and accepted the possibility of being rejected.
He, on the other hand, preferred to keep hiding everything.
Does Anya have an interest in romance?
If Damian had to point out anything that came close to a love interest on Anya's part, the answer would be almost depressing.
BondMan.
A cartoon character.
It was practically humiliating to think that Damian Desmond, after all those years, could lose to a fictional character.
But he had already made peace with it.
Anya has always shown a much greater passion for BondMan than for any real boy who had appeared in her life. And although Damian tried not to take it so seriously, it was hard not to feel a little defeated by the situation.
He still remembered the sixth-grade costume party.
At that time, Damian had tried to get closer to her, believing that maybe this opportunity could make a difference between the two of them. He had even dressed up for the occasion, thinking that it might finally make them a little closer.
It didn't work.
At least not in the way he expected.
They ended up getting slightly closer after that occasion, but nothing really special happened.
And looking back, Damian even thought it was a little funny.
He had put in so much effort at that time, while Anya remained completely fascinated by a cartoon character.
It was depressing to lose to someone who didn't even exist.
If BondMan was the greatest romantic interest Anya could show, then maybe he still had some time before he had to worry about another boy winning her heart.
The problem was that it also meant that he still didn't know if Anya would ever be able to see him in any other way.
Does Anya enjoy spending time with me?
This question always required Damian to be completely honest with himself.
The answer was... sort of.
They were friends, there was no doubt about that. Anya enjoyed his company the same way she enjoyed the company of the rest of the group. But when Damian looked at the situation, he realized that she had never really paid special attention to any of the boys.
The group consisted of him, Ewen, Emile, Tertius, Freddy and... ugh, Arnold.
And Anya treated everyone similarly.
With Damian, in fact, she seemed to have only two modes of interaction: tease him until the two started a completely stupid argument or show up desperate on the eve of some test asking for help to study because she had no idea half of the content.
It was almost a tradition.
Damian complained.
Anya pretended not to hear.
And, in the end, he ended up teaching the subject in the same way.
If there was anyone who really got special treatment from Anya, it was Becky.
The two practically lived together. They had lunch together, studied together, walked together and seemed unable to stay apart for long. For a period, this even fueled a curious rumor at school that Anya might like girls.
The theory died quickly.
Mostly because anyone who knew Becky for more than five minutes realized she was just... Becky.
Besides, Damian had a much more selfish motive for rooting against that idea.
If Anya really liked Becky, he would never hear the end of the teasing.
Becky would make it a point to remind him every day that he had managed to lose to her.
And that would be unbearable.
Does Anya give any hint of maybe reciprocating my feelings?
That was, by far, the question that hurt the most to answer.
Because Damian already knew the answer before he even finished formulating it.
No.
Anya never smiled at him in that carefree way she did when she was eating peanuts.
And God... what he wouldn't do to be the reason for that smile.
She never sighed as she watched him.
She never stared at him for too long until someone had to call her back to reality.
He was the one who did that.
She never blushed because she realized that the two were too close.
He never looked away out of embarrassment.
She never seemed nervous when their hands touched by accident.
She never gave him chocolates on Valentine's Day.
He never made up an excuse to be alone.
He never looked for exclusive moments between the two.
But he...
He had already done all this.
He was staring at Anya without realizing it.
He has already looked for places where he knew she would be.
He has already made stupid excuses to prolong a conversation for a few more minutes.
She has wished countless times that the way back to the dorms was a little longer just to continue walking alongside her.
Feelings have always existed only on one side.
And it was precisely this realization that made Damian take a deep breath before reaching the last question in his system.
The only question that really determined what he should do from then on.
Is it still worth cultivating these feelings?
Damian always knew that loving Anya wouldn't work.
Deep down, perhaps he had known from the moment he realized that it had ceased to be just a passing passion. His feelings were never reciprocated, and he had already spent too much time trying to find some sign that could prove otherwise.
He tried everything.
He tried to get her attention, provoke reactions, find excuses to be close, help her whenever she needed it, and even create situations where the two of them could spend time together.
And he achieved nothing.
Anya continued to see him as her friend.
Nothing more than that.
Coming to this conclusion had been painful, but after so many unsuccessful attempts, Damian had finally reached the point of considering giving up.
Maybe it would be better that way.
It was even ironic.
He never managed to win the love of the people he loved the most.
First it had been his father.
Now it was Anya.
It was almost as if he was condemned to desire just what he could never have.
Still, Damian was strangely at peace with the idea of letting those feelings die.
Because, thinking rationally, they would never work out anyway.
It was enough to look at the two of them.
They argued over anything. Anya could annoy him in a matter of seconds, and Damian had an equally impressive talent for teasing Anya until she wanted to start another argument.
If they really tried to have a relationship, they would probably break up in a week.
Maybe less.
It was almost funny to imagine.
So perhaps it would be better to continue as they were.
Friends.
Nothing more than that.
It was always depressing to go through those questions.
Each one of them seemed to wrest some of the hope that Damian insisted on keeping hidden within him. But he believed that this was the right path.
It was better to face reality than to continue feeding feelings that would never have anywhere to go.
And, somehow, the very sadness of his existence ended up helping.
The problems he carried, the disappointments, the constant feeling of never being enough... All of this managed to overcome those uncontrollable feelings.
It cooled them.
It made them seem less important.
Because, after all, what was the point of continuing to love someone who would never love you in the same way?
What was the point of nurturing a hope that could only end in disappointment?
If he insisted on that, he would only end up destroying the friendship he had finally managed to build with Anya.
So maybe he should just accept that.
Maybe I should be happy with just that.
Anya was in her life.
She was his friend.
And considering everything that had happened between the two, that should be enough.
He just needed to convince his own heart of it.
He was even greedy for wanting more.
It was hard to admit it, but Damian knew it was true.
Anya had absolutely nothing to do with the feelings he carried. She had never asked to be loved that way, had never promised that she would someday live up to him and, above all, had never done anything to feed those expectations.
All that existed inside him.
It was his problem.
So why would it be fair to drag Anya into that?
She was not to blame for being so important to him. It was not her fault for making him smile when she was around her, for making him forget about his own problems for a few minutes, or for occupying his thoughts with an ease that Damian found almost humiliating.
Anya was simply like that.
Kind.
Spontaneous.
Someone who could make the people around him feel better without even realizing he was doing it.
And Damian didn't think he deserved to be with someone like that.
Not when he carried so many problems inside him.
Not when he was unable to control his own feelings.
Maybe that's precisely why he needed to let them die.
If he really liked Anya, then he should think about what was best for her, not what he wanted.
And what did he want?
More.
More attention.
More moments together.
More reasons to see her smile.
More proximity.
Maybe even something I would never have the courage to say out loud.
He was greedy, and selfish.
He knew.
And the more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt.
Anya was already giving him her friendship. That should be enough.
It had to be.
Without realizing it, Damian had arrived at his room in the boys' dormitory.
He stopped in front of the door for a few seconds.
He simply stared at her, as if he had forgotten what he intended to do. His thoughts were still stuck in that endless cycle of questions and answers he had created for himself.
Maybe it would be better that way.
Maybe when I woke up the next day, I could think about her a little less.
Maybe I could finally put those feelings somewhere where they didn't bother me anymore.
Damian let out a low sigh and opened the door.
He entered the room.
Then he closed the door behind him.
Silence greeted him immediately.
Without saying anything else, Damian walked over to her bed and simply threw himself on it.
The mattress sank under his weight.
He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before letting out another sigh, this time much longer.
Why hadn't that happened yet?
That was what bothered him the most.
He knew he shouldn't have those feelings.
He knew he needed to weaken them.
He knew that thinking too much about Anya only made everything worse.
And yet, they were still there.
Glued to your heart.
As if they had taken root too deep to be uprooted.
Damian could ignore them.
I could pretend they didn't exist.
He could create lists of questions, analyze every interaction between the two, remind himself of all the reasons why it would never work out, and repeat over and over again that Anya saw him only as a friend.
He could do all that.
But, in the end, it was enough to close my eyes for everything to come back.
Her smile.
Her voice.
The way he laughed.
The little things I did without realizing it.
Everything was still there.
It never completely disappeared.
"But why...?" He muttered to himself.
Why, even after all?
Why did those feelings continue to exist?
Why couldn't he just stop loving someone when he knew that love would lead nowhere?
Damian closed his eyes.
And then Anya's smiling face popped into her mind.
It was not necessary to think too much.
He already knew the answer.
In fact, I always knew.
Perhaps that was the real problem.
He could try to rationalize his feelings as much as he wanted. He could create systems, questions, rules, and reasons to try to convince himself that he needed to give up.
But feelings did not obey rules.
They did not disappear simply because they were inconvenient.
They did not cease to exist just because they were not reciprocated.
And despite everything Damian had done to try to erase it, a part of him still loved Anya.
Maybe he would continue to love for a long time.
Maybe until the end.
He opened his eyes one last time, staring at the ceiling as fatigue finally began to overcome his thoughts.
A small melancholy smile appeared on his face.
There was nothing else he could do.
He couldn't force Anya to love him.
He could not force his own heart to stop.
I could only accept that.
To accept that, no matter how hard I tried to run away, those feelings would always find a way to stay.
Damian closed his eyes again.
Her body finally relaxed on the bed.
And as sleep slowly drifted away from all those thoughts, he muttered to himself, almost as if he were admitting a truth he had known for a long time:
"It's just inevitable."
And then he fell asleep.