The ballroom shimmered under the soft glow of golden chandeliers, casting warm light over the sea of students in their finest attire. The air smelled faintly of cologne, perfume, and something sweet from the chocote fountain near the refreshments table. Ezra had never seen so many people trying so hard to be elegant while barely holding their own bance in stiff dress shoes.

  Julie, of course, was in her element.

  Dressed in a deep emerald gown that clung to her in all the right ways without making her look like she was trying too hard, she practically owned the damn room. She had already danced three times—twice for fun and once just to mess with a guy who clearly thought he had a shot with her. Ezra had been perfectly content watching from the sidelines, sipping on some questionable punch, when she caught his eye.

  She smirked.

  And Ezra knew he was doomed.

  “C’mon, Cum-Back Kid,” she teased, striding toward him with all the confidence of a queen about to pull a peasant onto the dance floor. “I know you can outtalk half the people here, but can you out-dance them?”

  Ezra held up his hands in surrender. “I never cimed to have rhythm, Jules.”

  Julie grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the dance floor. “Lucky for you, neither did half these idiots.”

  Ezra barely had time to protest before she spun him around like they were in a full-fledged ballroom performance.

  And to his absolute horror—He was actually having fun.

  They twirled under the lights, ughing between stumbles and missteps, Julie taking the lead and Ezra just trying not to step on her feet. The music swelled around them, a slow but steady rhythm, and for a moment—just a moment—Ezra felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  They danced through a few songs before finally breaking away, breathless, and Ezra, feeling entirely too good about himself, made a very dangerous decision.

  "Alright," he smirked, "but can you keep up with me at the te-night snack run?"

  Julie grinned. "Ezra, I was born for te-night snack runs."

  The diner was mostly empty when they arrived, the neon sign buzzing overhead in flickering reds and yellows. The smell of greasy fries, sizzling burgers, and old fryer oil filled the air, and the lone worker at the register barely looked up as they ordered their food.

  They took their usual seats by the window, the city stretching out before them in glowing dots of streetlights and passing cars. Ezra popped a fry into his mouth, watching as Julie expertly unwrapped her burger without spilling a single drop of sauce on her dress—a skill that he considered downright mythical.

  "So," she said, leaning back in her seat. "What’s next for the great Ezra and his master pns? I assume you’re well on your way to achieving world domination."

  Ezra smirked. "One well-timed physics breakthrough away, I’d say."

  Julie wiggled her brows. "I knew I was keeping you around for a reason."

  Ezra rolled his eyes, but before he could fire back with a witty retort, his gaze drifted out the window. His mind, for reasons beyond him, wandered somewhere else entirely.

  "What exactly is love?" he muttered.

  Julie, mid-bite, paused. She raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Deep thoughts at midnight?"

  Ezra shrugged, pulling out his phone. "It’s just… it’s such a big word. People throw it around all the time, but it’s got to mean more than one thing, right?"

  Julie hummed, wiping a bit of ketchup from her thumb. "Yeah. Makes sense. What’s Google got to say about it?"

  Ezra tapped away at his phone before reading aloud. "The Greeks broke love into four main types: Eros, Philia, Storge, and Agape." He looked up at her. "Ever heard of them?"

  Julie shook her head. "Enlighten me, oh wise schor."

  Ezra smirked and continued. "Eros—that’s romantic, passionate love. The kind you see in movies. The kind that’s all fire and obsession."

  Julie raised a brow, tilting her head. "Not really our vibe, huh?"

  Ezra snorted. "Not unless you count us fighting over the st fry."

  Julie smirked, nudging his pte closer to him. "Go on, then. What’s next?"

  Ezra scrolled. "Philia. That’s friendship—deep, trusting, loyal love. The kind of love that’s actually worth a damn."

  Julie leaned in slightly, propping her chin on her hand. "That sounds more like us."

  Ezra nodded. "Then there’s Storge—family love. The kind that’s built over time, through shared experiences and just knowing each other."

  Julie’s expression softened. "I mean… that kind of fits too. We’ve known each other forever."

  Ezra smirked. "So what you’re saying is we’re basically an old married couple."

  Julie threw a fry at his face. Ezra ughed, dodging it just in time.

  He wiped his fingers on a napkin before finishing. "And st—Agape. The highest form of love. Selfless, unconditional, the kind of love that doesn’t expect anything in return."

  Julie went quiet for a moment. She tapped a finger against the table, her gaze thoughtful. "That’s… actually kind of beautiful."

  Ezra nodded. "Yeah. I guess it just goes to show—love isn’t just one thing. People always focus on Eros, like it’s the only love that matters, but… all of these? They’re just as important."

  Julie smiled, a rare, genuine smile, not her usual pyful smirk. "So, what kind of love do you think we have?"

  Ezra didn’t hesitate. "Philia."

  Julie grinned. "Good answer."

  They sat there for a moment, just letting the words sink in, the hum of the diner’s lights buzzing faintly above them. Neither of them needed to say more.

  Their friendship wasn’t built on fleeting passion, on fire that burned fast and fizzled out. It was built on trust, history, and the fact that neither of them ever had to pretend to be something they weren’t.

  And that?

  That was enough.

  For now.

  As they stepped out of the diner, the air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain on the horizon. The city streets were quiet, just a few cars passing by, their headlights cutting through the night.

  Julie stretched, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Well, this has been fun, but if I don’t get home soon, my dad’s gonna start tracking my phone like a government agent."

  Ezra chuckled. "I’d pay to see that interrogation."

  Julie smirked. "You wish you had my dad’s spy tech."

  They stood there for a moment, neither moving, as if something unspoken lingered between them.

  Then Julie punched his arm lightly. "See you tomorrow, schor."

  Ezra smirked. "See you tomorrow, crow."

  And just like that, the night ended.

  No confessions. No grand romantic gestures.

  Just two friends, knowing that whatever this was, it was already something special.

  The cssroom was nearly empty, the st few students filing out as the bell signaled the end of the day. Ezra and Julie, however, remained behind, books sprawled across their desks as they casually flipped through pages, half-studying, half-lost in conversation.

  “Alright, so let’s say love is just a feeling, right?” Julie said, stretching her arms behind her head. “Then why do people do stupid things for it?”

  Ezra leaned back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers. “Because emotions process faster than logic. The brain prioritizes feeling over thinking—which is why people tend to act before reasoning kicks in.”

  Julie smirked. “That’s a fancy way of saying people are dumb when they’re in love.”

  Mr. Harding, who had been gathering his papers at the front of the room, let out a quiet chuckle.

  Julie’s eyes snapped to him. “Oh no, were you listening?”

  Harding gnced over his gsses, amusement flickering in his expression. “I’d apologize, but if you didn’t want an audience, you wouldn’t be debating love at full volume in an empty cssroom.”

  Julie huffed, but Ezra leaned forward, intrigued.

  “Since you’re eavesdropping anyway,” Ezra said, “what’s your take? You’ve got that whole ‘wise old scientist’ vibe going on—what’s love, in scientific terms?”

  Mr. Harding smirked, stepping toward them and pulling out a chair. “Alright, I’ll bite. Let’s talk about Negative Love.”

  Julie raised an eyebrow. “That sounds… dark.”

  “Not at all,” Harding said, folding his hands together. “It’s just something people don’t think about often. See, we tend to divide emotions into positive and negative categories. Happiness, joy, excitement—those are ‘good.’ Anger, jealousy, sadness—those are ‘bad.’ But what if I told you that all of those emotions—even the ones we consider negative—are just forms of love in disguise?”

  Ezra’s curiosity piqued instantly. “Go ooooon...”

  Harding leaned forward. “Take anger, for example. When are people most angry? When something they love—their pride, their values, their retionships—is threatened. No one gets truly angry over something they don’t care about. The anger exists because love is present.”

  Julie narrowed her eyes, thoughtful now. “Okay… but what about jealousy?”

  “That one’s easy,” Harding said with a smirk. “Jealousy is just love combined with fear—the fear of losing something important. It doesn’t exist without love being there first.”

  Ezra tapped his pen against his notebook. “So what you’re saying is… love fuels every emotion?”

  “Exactly,” Harding said, pleased. “Fear, sadness, rage—strip them down, and at their core, you’ll always find love for something or someone. It’s just being expressed through different lenses.”

  Julie rested her chin in her palm, her usual pyfulness repced with real thought. “So, what? Love’s this all-consuming thing that just decides how we feel about everything?”

  Harding chuckled. “Not quite. But that brings me to my next point—how we measure it.”

  Ezra sat up straighter. “Measure love? You’re saying it’s quantifiable?”

  Harding nodded. “In a way. If we think of love as an action rather than just a feeling, then we can assign it values. Let’s say zero is the absence of love—neutrality. That’s the baseline. But love starts to matter when we put it into motion.”

  He grabbed a piece of chalk, turning to the board behind him.

  “One, for example, would represent the ultimate sacrifice—giving one’s life for another.” He marked a 1 on the board. “That’s the peak expression of love. No greater act exists.”

  Julie let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s a high bar.”

  Harding smirked. “It is. But let’s move to the other side of the scale.” He turned back to the board and wrote -1.

  “This,” he said, tapping the number, “is what I call Negative Love. It’s when love overrides logic. It’s when emotions take complete control over reasoning. Why? Because humans process emotions five times faster than rational thought.”

  Ezra’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying… when people do something reckless because of love—when they sh out, or make terrible decisions—it’s because their love has hit the negative scale?”

  Harding nodded. “Precisely. A -1 means you love something so much that it clouds your judgment entirely. It doesn’t mean the love isn’t real—it just means it’s unchecked.”

  Julie leaned back, staring at the board. “So, hold up—where does everyday love nd? The stuff like… helping a friend move, or sharing food?”

  Harding grinned. “Those would fall anywhere from 0.1 to 0.5. Small sacrifices, daily acts of kindness—they all have value. But the big moments, the ones that define people? Those are closer to the extremes.”

  Ezra leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk. “So Negative Love isn’t bad—it’s just love without reason?”

  “Exactly,” Harding said, tapping the chalk against his palm. “Most people think that when emotions take over, it means something isn’t love anymore. But the truth is, the more irrational an emotion is, the stronger the love behind it. The problem isn’t love itself—it’s what you do with it.”

  Julie whistled again. “That’s a hell of a way to look at things.”

  Ezra was completely absorbed now. “So, in history—people who did extreme things in the name of love—wars, revolutions, even personal vendettas—those were just… -1 love moments?”

  Harding smiled. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Julie smirked. “And heartbreak?”

  Harding chuckled. “That depends. Are you self-destructing over it? Or are you learning from it? Because if you’re learning, then it’s no longer a -1.”

  Ezra let out a slow breath, staring at the board. This conversation had started as a joke—just a casual chat after css. But now?

  Now he was thinking differently.

  Love wasn’t just a feeling. It wasn’t just something that happened—it was something that had weight, logic, and consequences.

  It wasn’t just about what you felt.

  It was about what you did with it.

  Harding cpped his hands together. “Well, kids, I think that’s enough philosophy for one day. Unless you want to start graphing emotional states—”

  Julie held up her hands. “Nope, I’m good, thanks.”

  Ezra chuckled, but as he packed up his things, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a conversation he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.