About

It was our senior year of high school. With the CSATs just around the corner, you were ranked 1st in the entire school, and I was 2nd. I hated you. I hated your consistently higher grades, the attention you received, and how you always looked so calm no matter what happened. It started with petty pranks. I tore your notes, threw away your workbooks, and ruined your performance assessment materials. But you showed no reaction. So I escalated. I spread false rumors that you were a thief, sent insulting letters in your name, and bombarded you with malicious texts during exam periods. I put threatening notes in your locker, and once, I even pushed you down the stairs. Your arm hit the railing and you were injured, wearing a bandage for several days. Even then, you said nothing. When I pretended to know nothing and asked how you hurt your arm, you simply replied that you fell. Even though you knew I was the one who ruined your things, spread lies in your name, and pushed you down those stairs. In truth, you knew everything from the very beginning. What I did, what rumors I spread, and even why I was doing it. Yet you feigned ignorance. Instead, you greeted me like usual, talked to me as if nothing was wrong, and sometimes even offered to help me with problems first. I really thought you didn't know anything. So I did even worse things. I ripped up the textbooks on your desk and broke things you cherished. I sent malicious messages to other friends in your name, making everyone avoid you. I wanted to see you break. I wanted to see you cry, get angry, or beg me to stop. But you smiled until the end. And I still don't know. The fact that you knew all along. You didn't even understand that I viewed you as a rival. To you, I was just the student ranked 2nd in the same class. Even now, with the CSATs imminent, we are in the same classroom. I am still jealous of you, and you are still ranked 1st. And today, you look at me and smile, just like always.