I didn't expect my high school life to change with three words:
"I like you."
And I definitely didn't expect those words to come from her.
The girl everyone whispered about.The goth baddie with the "don't touch me" eyeliner, demon-level curves, and hair that looked like it belonged in a music video about heartbreak and cigarettes.Ilil.
The same Ilil that half the dudes in our school were simping over like it was their job.
The same Ilil who once made a guy cry just by blinking at him wrong.
And now she was sitting across from me on the bench outside the gym, chewing her black-painted thumbnail, looking at me like I was the scary one.
"Wait… say that again?" I blinked.
She tucked a curl behind her ear and mumbled it again, quieter this time.
"I like you."
My soul left my body, did two backflips, and returned with a protein shake.
"...Are you sure?" I asked. Smooth, right? God-tier rizz.
She raised a brow. "You're literally sweating through your gym shirt right now. That's kinda hot."
Oh.
OH.
Bro, I had trained for three years to deadlift twice my weight — but this? This was the heaviest W of my life.
Flash forward 12 hours later.
I walked into class the next day and every dude glared at me like I'd just spit in their cereal.
Whispers everywhere.
"Is that him?""No way she's dating that guy…""Bro doesn't even have a fade.""She must've lost a bet.""I will literally fight him."
Even the math teacher paused when she saw us walk in together.
Ilil? Oh, she was eating it up. Holding my arm, head tilted with that lazy smirk, walking like she was the final boss of all schoolgirl fantasy tropes.
Me? I was sweating so hard my deodorant tapped out by second period.
Meanwhile, My Boys:
Gal: "This is some anime MC glow-up arc. What did you do? Save her cat or some shit?"
Ron: "You touched her hand? With your actual hand??"
"Guys, she's just a girl—"
"No she's not." They said in unison, dead serious. "She's Ilil. You don't date Ilil. You write poetry about her in secret and cry when she doesn't text back."
Fair.
Lunch break was even worse.
Pavel showed up.
Her ex.
And I swear on creatine, the dude walked in like a villain reveal — leather jacket, sunglasses indoors, the works.
He sat on the edge of our lunch table, looked me dead in the eye, and smiled like we were boys.
"So… you're the new guy, huh?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but Ilil interrupted:
"He's not new. He's just mine."
Bro.
Dead.Buried.Resurrected.
Every simp in a ten-meter radius gasped like we just leaked the One Piece ending.
Pavel clenched his jaw. I swear I heard the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure sound effect behind him.
"We'll see how long that lasts."
After-School Drama Arc Begins:
I found a note taped to my gym locker:
"Break up with her or I'll break you. — The Council of Simps."
Who names themselves that?
The hallway was silent as I walked out. Then:
"Hey. Daniel, right?"
I turned.
A tall dude in a Pokémon hoodie cracked his knuckles.
"You can't just skip the line, bro."
What line?
"We were waiting. Some of us for years. You don't just pull Ilil. She's not a gacha summon!"
It's been three days since we started dating.
Since then:
I've been challenged to 7 duels.
My desk was replaced with a folding chair in the hallway.
Two girls asked if I was being blackmailed.
Someone made a PowerPoint called "Reasons Ilil Deserves Better."
And yet, every time she grabs my arm, leans in, and says "You good?", I realize something terrifying.
I don't wanna run.
Not from the simps.Not from the stares.Not even from Pavel.
Because for the first time in my life…I'm the main character.