The Boy I Forgot to Hate

The rich, warm aroma of freshly baked cookies hit me the second I pulled open the oven door. I quickly set the hot baking sheet onto the counter, waving my hand to waft the scent toward me as I admired my work.

“Perfect,” I muttered, thoroughly satisfied.

“Wow... After all this time, your signature cookies!” my dad greeted, his eyes lighting up as he reached out to snatch one.

I swatted his hand away. “What do you mean 'all this time'? I make these every single week. Nice try, you sneaky man, but these aren't for you,” I teased, keeping him at bay.

My dad narrowed his eyes. “Don't tell me they're for another man. I won't allow it,” he bantered.

I smiled. “They're for Julian. I remember how he used to devour them and stuff the leftovers into his romper pockets. I swear, the only reason he cried so hard when they moved away was because he knew he wouldn't get to eat my cookies anymore,” I reminisced, a bittersweet feeling washing over me.

“I feel the exact same way. I'm practically weeping today because all I get is the smell,” my dad shot back, refusing to concede.

I shook my head. “You need to watch your sugar intake anyway. These are for my clumsy childhood best friend. I just feel bad for him; he’s probably going to be so awkward coming back here and will struggle to fit in—unlike me. With his thick glasses, perpetual runny nose, and oversized rompers, he’s going to be prime target for the bullies...” I sighed heavily, feeling a pang of worry.

My dad opened his mouth to interrupt. “Uh... about that... Actually, okay never mind. You can see for yourself,” he backtracked, offering a slightly awkward smile.

What was that supposed to mean?

Even if he had changed, he couldn't be that different, right?

I scoffed, brushing off my dad's weird behavior.

***

Move-in day at San Aurelio University.

I adjusted my hair tie, making sure not a single stray strand obscured my vision, before tightly hugging the cookie box—adorned with a simple ribbon—against my chest.

Stepping through the gates of San Aurelio University felt like crossing the threshold into the future I had dreamed of for so long. Here, in this very place, all the grueling hard work, the sleepless nights throughout high school, the missed social gatherings, and the nauseating piles of textbooks finally paid off.

I had secured my scholarship. And to keep it, I had to keep striving to secure my future.

Clutching the neatly packed box of cookies, I quickened my pace toward the dorm building, eager to breeze through registration so I could finally go see Julian.

Thud!

"Ah!"

My shoulder slammed into something—or rather, someone—hard enough to send me stumbling back two steps. Luckily, my reflexes kicked in. I gripped the cookie box against my chest with all my might before the contents could scatter across the floor.

"How thick are your glasses, Lenatic? Can you not even see where you're going?" a shrill, painfully familiar voice barked, instantly making my stomach churn.

I looked up, and my good mood evaporated on the spot.

Valeria Montes stood there, flanked by her two loyal sidekicks who had trailed her since high school as if attached by an invisible leash. Dressed in a tight, flashy mini-dress with her blonde hair gleaming flawlessly in the sunlight, her eyes locked onto me.

"Surprised you made it here," Valeria said, crossing her arms as she judged me from head to toe, her gaze lingering on my beat-up canvas shoes. Her signature venomous smirk spread across her face. "Elena Castillo. I guess the rumors were true—you actually got a scholarship here. Make sure you use my tax money wisely, Lenatic."

"Excuse me, Valeria. I'm in a hurry," I said, attempting to brush past her left side.

However, one of her friends deliberately stepped over, blocking my path with an arrogant stance.

"Slow your roll, Elena. We graduated from the same high school. Are you really going to act all high and mighty the second we bump into each other on campus?" Valeria stepped forward, closing the distance between us.

She sneered, gesturing toward my oversized blouse and heavy backpack. "But honestly... your look is a total embarrassment to our old school's reputation. You do realize this is a prestigious university, right? Yet you’re still dressing like a total hillbilly heading to a flea market."

Her friends giggled, intentionally drawing the attention of a few freshmen passing through the outdoor dorm corridor.

"You never peaked in high school, Elena. And looking at you now... it looks like you’re never going to peak in your entire life," Valeria sneered.

I took a deep breath. Back in high school, digs like this would have made me hang my head and seek out the nearest bathroom stall to hide in.

But not today.

Not anymore.

I squared my shoulders, staring dead into Valeria’s eyes. "Valeria, if your definition of 'peaking' is measured solely by how short your skirt is or how expensive your handbag brand is, be my guest. But I’m here to learn, not for a fashion show. This university screens students by their brains, not the thickness of their makeup. So, if you’re so free that you have time to obsess over my appearance, maybe you should use that time to study. That way, your GPA this semester won't embarrass your parents."

Valeria’s face instantly paled, her jaw clenching. She clearly hadn't expected me to bite back so fiercely in front of everyone, especially since she was just starting to build her campus reputation.

"You—"

"I don't have time for this, I'm leaving," I cut her off sharply before she could hurl an insult. I deliberately clipped her friend's shoulder as I walked past, keeping my head held high.

I wasn't weak enough to let Valeria walk all over me anymore. Even so, deep down, a small part of me feared the retaliation that could catch me off guard at any moment.

Worse, her degrading comments about me looking 'rustic' had still managed to chip away at my fragile self-esteem.

Passing by the building's glass windows, I caught my reflection. I looked starkly out of place compared to the other fashionable co-eds. But I quickly shook my head to clear the thoughts.

‘Focus, Elena. You're here to keep your scholarship, graduate early, and land a great job for Dad. Looks don't matter.’

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to shake off the lingering frustration as I stepped into the third-floor dorm corridor. I dug into my pocket for my key, matching it to the room number on the door.

Room 304.

"Alright, here we go," I muttered in relief.

Just as I was about to insert the key into the slot, something caught my eye on the door directly across from mine—Room 305.

Julian Vega.

My breath hitched in sheer excitement.

All the irritation from the encounter with Valeria vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of pure joy at the realization that I was finally going to see my childhood best friend.

‘He’s here! Our rooms are literally across from each other!’ my mind cheered.

Abandoning my own door, I turned around and knocked on his. My mind raced, imagining Julian’s shocked expression, his thick glasses sliding down his nose, and the way he’d whine the moment he saw my homemade cookies.

Noticing the door was slightly ajar and hadn’t shut, I took a breath and pushed it open a fraction without waiting for an answer.

"Julian! Look who's—"

The words caught in my throat.

I froze in my tracks, my fingers tightening around the cookie box.

Inside the dimly lit room, a man stood with his back to me. His shoulders were incredibly broad and solid, filled out perfectly by a black T-shirt that accentuated his athletic build. He was tall, his head nearly reaching the top frame of the window. His dark hair was styled into an effortlessly messy, modern cut.

And that man... the man whose door bore the name Julian Vega... had his hands wrapped possessively around a girl's waist, kissing her deeply and intensely near the bed.

That girl was Valeria Montes.

Valeria, who had just insulted me outside, now had her arms looped around his neck, losing herself in the kiss with her eyes tightly shut.

I gasped audibly, causing the box in my hands to make a slight rustling sound.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" I choked out in sheer panic.

I spun around immediately, turning my back on a sight that shattered an entire lifetime of childhood memories in a single second.

My head spun. In my panic, I intended to just drop the cookie box onto the nightstand by the door and bolt.

But as my eyes registered what was already sitting on that nightstand, a wave of humiliation hit me like a tidal wave.

The table was overflowing with dozens of lavish gifts. There was high-end French perfume, a box of imported chocolates wrapped in gold ribbon, and a fresh bouquet of lilies.

Meanwhile, in my hands, my homemade cookies, packed in a cheap gift box, looked utterly pathetic and tacky. Exactly like what Valeria had called me.

Uninvited tears suddenly welled up in my eyes. Moving in a frantic blur, I shoved my cookie box into the very back of the pile, hiding it from view.

Before the man inside could turn around or recognize me, I pulled the door shut, sprinted into my own room, and locked it from the inside.

I leaned heavily against the back of the door, my breath coming in ragged gasps as the tears finally spilled over, rolling down my cheeks one by one.

My dad was right.

The boy from my childhood was completely gone. The Julian Vega I knew—the nerdy, crying kid with thick glasses who always ran behind my back whenever he was bullied—no longer existed.

The man across the hall was a total stranger, living in a world entirely different from mine.

A world that belonged to Valeria Montes.