One day, Makla was gone.
No goodbye. No warning.
I came to class and his desk was empty.
No one told me where he went — not even the teacher.
The classroom felt different without him.
Quieter.
Duller.
I hated to admit it, but I missed him — the arguments, the competition, even the smirk I swore I hated.
That was when I realized something strange: maybe I liked him more than I thought.