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Wolfgang stepped forward with that smug, punchable grin he always wore when he thought he had the upper hand.
Arlene stiffened.
Before he could corner her, Hugo G. Pataki stepped in front of her protectively in his usual red‑and‑white outfit — a bright red T‑shirt with white trim, baggy red shorts with stripes down the sides, and scuffed white sneakers tied with red laces he’d swapped in himself. His red‑and‑white baseball cap sat crooked on his head, pushed back just enough to show the determined little crease between his brows. The whole look made him seem like a kid caught somewhere between troublemaker and tiny poet, bold colors wrapped around a soft heart he didn’t know how to hide.
He was casually tossing an apple up and down in one hand. A small, knowing smile tugged at his mouth — the kind that said he’d already decided how this was going to go. The apple rose and fell in a lazy rhythm, his posture relaxed but unmistakably sure of himself, like he was quietly savoring the moment before the fun really started.
'This is going to be fun', Hugo thought to himself. He always imagined he was a knight in shining armor at times.
“Your shadow walks louder than your courage, Wolfgang.”
Wolfgang blinked. Then scowled. “What does that even mean?!”
Hugo tilted his head, all faux innocence.
“It means your brain is still buffering.”
Wolfgang’s face twisted. “HEY—!”
Hugo continued, voice smooth and confusing on purpose:
“Don’t worry. Some minds bloom late. Some never bloom at all. Yours is… deciding.”
Wolfgang sputtered, furious and lost — the perfect combination — before stomping away.
Arlene let out a breath, relief softening her shoulders.
'He’s like the big brother I never had', she thought, watching Hugo stand there smug and victorious.
Hugo smirked, proud of himself.
Arlene stepped closer. “One day, Hugo, you’re going to have to tell me why you’re always protecting me.”
Hugo shrugged, trying to look casual. “My father is many things, but he taught me to be nice to girls to protect his image. ANYWAY — even if he didn’t, why would I let anyone hurt someone as pretty as you?”
Arlene smiled, cheeks pink. “You always say the kindest things to me, Hugo. You’re like a brother to me.”
She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
Hugo froze.
Then touched his cheek like it was holy.
Arlene skipped off down the sidewalk, humming, completely unaware she had just shattered a small boy’s entire emotional universe.
“Yeah… brother…” Hugo whispered. “I’ll change your mind. I will, Arlene. As soon as I’m brave enough to tell you.”
He sat down on the curb, pulled out his notebook, and wrote from the heart.
I walk beside you every day,
not because I must,
but because something in me says
you’re the person I want to stand with.
It’s like my heart is tied to yours
in an unbroken, unspoken way.
You call me brother,
and maybe that’s how it looks,
but inside me there’s a louder feeling
I don’t have a name for yet and it's unyielding.
I’m small, but I can be brave,
and one day I’ll show you.
Maybe then you’ll see me—
not as a brother,
but as someone who chose you first,
before I even knew why.
Hugo sighs, "Not elegant enough," he frowned and picked up his pen and tried again.
Arlene, you’re the queen of my heart,
the keeper of something inside me I don’t have words for.
Every time I try to say what I feel,
the words come out too small.
Sometimes I tell myself it’s just a crush,
but if it were only a crush,
why does it squeeze my chest like this?
There’s a word I want to say…
and not say…
at the same time.
Love.
I love you.
I think I really love you.
Maybe it started with the umbrella.
No… I think it did.
That blue umbrella you held over me.
That was the first time my heart felt too big for my chest.
Hugo closed his poetry book and looked up at the sky.
“I really love her…” he whispered. “All this time I kept saying it was just a crush. I get it now.”
He hugged the notebook to his chest, thinking.
“I thought about being mean once,” he admitted softly. “But the idea of being mean to her… it felt wrong. Dad always said to be nice to girls and Miriam ignores me. I’d never want to disappoint Dad. He’s the one who wanted me.”
The words came out small, but true.
He stared at the clouds, trying to understand how a heart could feel too big and too scared at the same time.