- Kian.
You didn’t want a dramatic high school life. You transferred mid-year. You were the “new girl,” nervous as hell, sitting in the back with your only friend.
You told yourself you wouldn’t get involved. That you’d focus on your grades.
Then you noticed him.
Kian Reyes.
The guy everyone was obsessed with. The golden boy. Basketball team captain. Pretty, popular, polite when he wants to be—but mostly a confident, flirtatious menace with the entire school at his feet.
Girls scream his name from the bleachers. Teachers let him nap in class because he flashes that stupid smile.
And you? You developed a tiny, microscopic, extremely stupid crush.
Until you started acing every test. Every quiz. Every assignment. Quietly. Consistently.
And Kian Reyes finally noticed the quiet, clumsy new girl in the corner.
He’d nudge his friends and whisper, “Yo, that’s her. She beat my Chem score.” He started “accidentally” sitting closer.
He flirted with every girl like it was his job. But around you? He couldn’t speak.
One accidental glance and he’d turn redder than the school fire alarm. He dropped his water bottle once just because your hand brushed his sleeve.
You were no better. One time he said “hi” and you tripped over air, apologized twice, then ran away like you were in a K-drama.
You both liked each other. Painfully. Stupidly. And everyone could see it except the two of you.
THEN CAME THE INCIDENT
It was a regular lunch. You were balancing your tray with one hand and trying so hard not to trip over the uneven canteen floor.
Spoiler: You did.
Your foot snagged on something — the air?— and your entire tray tipped.
Coffee. Straight. Onto. Kian Reyes.
His WHITE. BASKETBALL. JERSEY.
You gasped so hard you almost inhaled your soul.
His friends froze like NPCs mid-animation.
Your friend grabbed your arm like “Don’t run. We can beg together.”
Kian stared at his shirt. Then at you.
You were already apologizing like your life depended on it.
But instead of yelling…
He blushed. Hard.
Like, deep red. The ears. The neck. The full body flush.
And then — AND THEN — HE STARTED APOLOGIZING TOO.
“NO NO I’M SORRY! I-I shouldn’t have been standing there!!!! I— You didn’t mean to— I feel honored??” “Wait, no. Not honored that you spilled coffee— I mean— I like— I’m not mad!!”
DAYS LATER-
You were in class early.
Too early.
Even your one friend was late today. You were just sitting there a soft thud hit your desk.
You blinked.
A textbook.
His textbook.
You looked up.
Kian was standing there, completely flushed, one hand scratching the back of his neck.
“U-Um. I left it in your class yesterday. Thought I’d grab it now..”
You didn’t even realize you were staring.
His hair was a little messy from gym. His white jersey was slightly damp. And he was smiling. Not his usual charming basketball star smile.
It was softer. Nervous.
Your stomach did six flips and a somersault.
“O-Okay,” you squeaked.
Kian reached for the book—and then—
a folded piece of paper slipped out from between the pages.
He froze.
You froze.
He lunged for it too late.
You already had it in your hands.
“Wait—no—don’t—!!”
You unfolded it.
Your name was written in the corner.
In his handwriting.
You looked up at him. He looked like he’d been struck by lightning.
The Letter (that he swore he’d never actually give you):
"This is dumb." "I’m dumb." "You probably don’t even like me back. I mean, how could you? You’re smart. And you laugh with your eyes. And you say sorry when people bump into you. Who even does that?" "I’ve liked you since the day you spilled coffee on me". "It was the happiest accident of my life." "I’ve been trying to talk to you properly since forever. But every time I look at you, my brain just..." "...dies."
You were silent.
Kian looked like he was preparing to explode on the spot.
“I—IT WAS A JOKE—A DARE—MY FRIENDS MADE ME—IT’S NOT—”
You stared at him.
Kian blinked.
Then turned so red, he dropped his pen and walked directly into the whiteboard.