My High School Crush Kissed Me On A Bet To Humiliate Me. Now He Transferred To My College And Wants A Second Chance. Should I Give Him The Satisfaction Of A Response?
The Proposal
Spring semester brought warmer weather and a sense of things coming to an end. Rocco and I took walks around campus in the evenings, talking about where we’d end up after graduation and how we’d make long-distance work if we had to. One night in April he stopped walking and turned to face me, looking nervous in a way I’d never seen him before. He told me he loved me and wanted to spend his life with me, and then he pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him.
I said yes immediately, not even needing to think about it because being with him felt right in a way nothing else ever had. We celebrated with Leilani and my other friends that weekend, everyone excited and happy for us. As I sat surrounded by people who loved and supported me I thought about how different my life could have been if I’d given Nico another chance out of nostalgia or insecurity or some misguided belief that I owed him something. I was so grateful I trusted myself and waited for someone who valued me from the beginning, who never made me question whether I was worth loving.
Graduation day arrived in May with perfect weather, sunny and warm with a light breeze. I sat with my class in the folding chairs on the lawn waiting for my name to be called, feeling proud of everything I’d accomplished over four years. After the ceremony ended I found my family and took pictures, then wandered around saying goodbye to classmates and professors. Across the crowd I saw Nico with his girlfriend and his family, all of them smiling and taking photos too. He caught my eye and waved and I waved back, both of us genuinely friendly. There was no lingering tension or unfinished business between us, no what-ifs or regrets. Just two people who knew each other once and learned their separate lessons and moved on to build good lives. That was the ending I needed and it was perfect.
After the ceremony ended and everyone started moving toward the parking lots with their families, I saw Nico walking toward me through the crowd. His girlfriend was talking to her parents a few yards away and he had that look on his face that meant he wanted to say something important. I stopped and waited while he approached, my diploma tucked under my arm, Rocco standing beside me with his hand on my back.
Nico congratulated me and said he was moving to Seattle for a job, leaving in two weeks, probably wouldn’t be back this way for a long time. He thanked me for teaching him that actions have consequences and that some things can’t be undone just because you want them to be. And his voice was steady and genuine without any of the charm he used to hide behind. I told him I hoped he had a great life out there and I meant it completely. No bitterness or lingering hurt, just honest hope that he’d be better to the people he met next. He nodded and shook Rocco’s hand and walked back to his girlfriend. And that was it. The final conversation we’d probably ever have.
The Best Revenge
Later that afternoon Leilani and I sat on the steps outside our apartment building with iced coffee, watching people load moving trucks up and down the street. She brought up the Nico situation without me asking, said it was the first time she’d ever seen me truly stand up for myself, really set a boundary and stick to it no matter how much pressure someone put on me. She told me that watching me refuse to settle for less than I deserved, watching me choose myself over nostalgia or guilt or the easier path, inspired her to do the same thing in her own relationships. I felt proud hearing that, knowing my choice to protect myself ended up being an example for someone I loved, proof that standing firm in your worth can matter beyond just your own life.
The next few days I spent packing up my apartment, wrapping dishes and newspaper and filling boxes with books and clothes, preparing for the move to the city where Rocco and I had both found jobs. I kept thinking about the girl who cried in her car after that party four years ago, the one who thought she’d never trust anyone again, never feel confident or wanted or safe. I wished I could go back and tell her she’d be okay. That she’d become strong and sure of herself and loved by someone who deserved her from the very beginning. That revenge isn’t about hurting the person who hurt you or making them suffer the way you suffered. Sometimes it’s just living well and refusing to let them matter, building a life so good that what they did becomes irrelevant.
Rocco and I loaded the last boxes into his car on a sunny morning in late May. The campus mostly empty now except for summer students and maintenance workers. We drove away together through streets I’d walked for four years, past buildings where I’d studied and made friends and became someone new. I realized as we merged onto the highway that I barely remembered what it felt like to want Nico’s approval, to care whether he thought I was pretty or interesting or worth his time.
The best revenge wasn’t making him want me or punishing him for what he did or teaching him some lesson he needed to learn. It was becoming someone who knew her worth so deeply, so completely, that his opinion became totally irrelevant. Just background noise in a life filled with real love and genuine respect. That was the victory I needed and it was mine forever. Something no one could take away or diminish or make me doubt.
