💧 "The Bench Near Classroom 12" 💧

 

There was nothing special about the wooden bench near Classroom 12—old, scratched, uneven. Students sat there only when every other seat was taken. Everyone except Zoe and Riyan.

For them… that bench was the beginning of everything.

Zoe was the kind of girl teachers adored—organized notes, perfect grades, never late. Riyan was the boy everyone warned her about—detention record, careless smile, jokes in serious moments. They were opposite pages of two different books, never meant to meet.

But fate doesn’t care about “meant to.”

One rainy morning, the school was too crowded and too noisy. Zoe sat on the bench with her books, and a minute later, Riyan sat next to her with dripping hair and a smirk.

“You look like the kind of person who hates noise,” he said.

“I look like someone who hates you talking,” she replied.

He laughed. She didn’t. But she smiled later when he looked away.

From the next day, both came earlier than usual—just to sit on that bench. At first, in silence. Then small conversations. Then long ones. Then secrets too fragile to say loudly.

Zoe learned that Riyan wasn’t careless—he was hurting. His parents were separating, and he hated going home. Riyan learned Zoe wasn’t perfect—she was exhausted living up to everyone’s expectations.

They became each other’s safe place.

Soon, everyone noticed the way his loudness softened around her… the way her eyes searched the halls for him… the way that old bench became reserved for two hearts quietly falling.

It wasn’t dating. It wasn’t defined. It was more than friendship and more than almost.

It was something only they understood.

But teenage love isn’t always stronger than fear.

Rumors started—people saying Zoe would “ruin her reputation” being with a boy like Riyan. Teachers warned her. Friends whispered in her ear:

“You’re too good for him.”

Riyan heard it too. And he believed them.

One afternoon, he didn’t come to the bench. Not the next day. Not the day after. Zoe waited anyway, clutching her books and breaking a little more each day.

When she finally found him at the school gate, she asked softly:

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He forced a smile. A broken one.

“You should focus on people who match your level. Not someone like me.”

She shook her head, tears gathering.
“You were the only thing that felt real.”

He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to. But he stepped back.

“I’m not good for you, Zoe. And you deserve a life without regrets.”

He walked away before she could stop him… because if she cried, he wouldn’t have the strength to leave.

After that, Zoe never sat on the bench again—because the memories sat there waiting to hurt her. Riyan transferred schools at the end of the year without saying goodbye.

Years later, Zoe came back to visit. The bench was still there—old, worn, untouched. On it, someone had carved:

“I never thought I was enough… until you.” — R

She sat down and cried—not because she still loved him, but because teenage love leaves a mark that adult life can’t erase.

Some loves don’t stay forever.
Some loves don’t get a second chance.
Some loves simply sit like that old bench—
still there, but no longer theirs.