I didn't know why Blake liked me either.
When I first started at this private high school, the birthmark on my face made me an instant target. Combined with my scholarship-kid status in a school full of legacies, I was the perfect punching bag for bullies. They stuck gum in my hair, locked me in lockers, and ganged up to mock me relentlessly. I thought about fighting back, but they were rich and powerful, and the teachers always turned a blind eye.
Until one day, for a laugh, they "accidentally" sent my lunch tray flying in the cafeteria.
The commotion caught the eye of Blake, who was just passing by.
He emerged from the crowd, frowning as he glanced our way. "If you want to screw around, do it somewhere else. You're blocking the path."
Sprawled on the floor and covered in food, any flicker of hope I’d felt was extinguished by his words. But then, our eyes met.
Blake's gaze lingered on my face for a second. His brow furrowed, and he strode right over to me.
"It's you?"
I didn't know Blake back then, but he seemed to recognize me instantly.
He knelt to check on me, but when his gaze fell upon the stains and crude drawings defacing my blazer, his temper snapped. He lunged, grabbing the lead bully by the collar. "Who the hell gave you permission to touch her!"
He yanked so hard the boy stumbled.
Blake's eyes were wild with fury. Without a second thought, he shoved the bully's face into a plate of spaghetti on a nearby table. The sudden violence stunned everyone—me, the bully's cronies—into silence. By the time we snapped out of it and pulled them apart, the bully was a pathetic, sauce-covered mess on the floor.
The incident blew up. The bully's father was on the school's board of directors, so even with the Sterling family's immense wealth, Blake was put on probation to appease them.
But from that day forward, no one dared to bully me again.
Blake and I started getting to know each other. Around me, he was gentle and considerate, a completely different person from the boy who had lost his temper in the cafeteria.
My family didn't have much money, so to save it, I often skipped breakfast, which was taking a toll on my health. When Blake found out, he started driving a longer route every morning just to pick me up, his car always stocked with warm milk and a sandwich.
Because of my birthmark, I was too self-conscious to speak up in class and passed on opportunities to join academic competitions. It was Blake who fought for me to have another chance, who looked me in the eye and told me, again and again, that I was brilliant.
Blake’s kindness was woven into every detail of my life. He saw my timidity and my low self-esteem, my shame and my vulnerability, and yet he still had the courage to tear down every barrier to protect and cherish me.
I once tilted my head to look at him and asked in confusion, "Blake, why are you so good to me?"
He patted my head and said softly, "I don't know either. Maybe I was put on this earth to find you."
He was the dazzling, untamable star captain, yet with me, all his sharp edges seemed to melt away. He was willing to talk with me about the graffiti on a street corner, the clouds at dusk, and the gulls flying by; about clues from the past and dreams for the future, reminding me to watch for the changing weather. He cherished my imperfections, all my rough edges.
How could I not fall for a Blake like that?
But I never expected it was all a dream. And that eventually, I would have to wake up.
