She Wasted Our Love, I Lost My Love

A sharp ache twisted in my chest again.

We met back in high school. Funny how it all started—we were in the same class. She was the class president; I was her vice.

At first, she always ranked number one. Every test, every subject—she had the top score.

Until one day... On a midterm, my total score missed hers by just one point.

That day, she came to me, smirking like she'd won a war. “Even if it's just one point,” she said, “I’ll always be better than you. Just like I’m president… and you’re only the vice.”

I never understood why she said that. Maybe it was her way of pushing me. Maybe it was just ego. But whatever it was, it lit something in me.

From that day forward, I threw myself into studying with everything I had. I stayed up later, studied harder and sent her late-night messages just to ask: [You still awake?]

It wasn’t concern. It was reconnaissance. I wanted to know how hard she was working—so I could work just a little harder. Just one more minute. Just one more point. Just enough to pass her. To prove myself.

And Freya… she did the same.

Even though she was a girl, she was ruthless when it came to competition. She'd message me too: [You asleep yet?]

Freya wanted the same edge. Wanted to beat me just as badly as I wanted to beat her.

We pushed each other past our limits. Some nights we stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning—both of us too stubborn to be the first to stop.

But the body has its limits. Lack of sleep hit us like a freight train during the day. Eventually, neither of us could keep it up.

Freya cracked first.

One day, she cornered me in the hallway, her face pale with exhaustion. “We need rules,” she said. “Starting now—lights out at 10:30. No exceptions. No more sneaking in extra study time. Promise me.”

I looked at her with doubt. “I can do that,” I said. “But can I trust you not to cheat?”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Please. I don’t need to cheat to beat you. I’ll win fair and square.”

So every night, right at 10:30, we’d both send the same message:

[Stopping now. Goodnight.]

But I lied. I kept going.

Even if it was just thirty more minutes, just one extra chapter, I believed it mattered. I believed every minute counted—that every second of effort would eventually tip the scale in my favor.

Then came another round of test results.

No surprise this time, I beat her. By two points. Freya stared at me like the numbers were lying. Like maybe I’d cheated. Like she couldn’t quite believe it.