It was late afternoon when Carl Gallagher found you behind the bleachers, where the last rays of sunlight cast golden lines across the empty football field. He looked like he’d just come from practice—pads slung over one shoulder, hair messy, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone. Classic Carl. He kicked a pebble with his scuffed sneaker, not meeting your eyes at first.

"Hey," he said, like he didn’t already know you’d be there. "You got a minute?"

You nodded, leaning against the fence. There was a familiar tension in the air—Carl always brought that with him. Like a lit fuse that hadn’t quite reached the dynamite yet.

"So, uh…" He scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "There’s this… thing. Homecoming."

You arched a brow, already suspicious. Carl Gallagher wasn’t exactly known for school spirit. Or organized dancing.

He rushed ahead before you could say anything. "I know it’s not really my thing, or yours probably, but I was thinking… I don’t know, maybe we could go. Together."

You blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice—he was trying. And not just in the “get you into trouble” kind of way he usually tried. This felt real. A little awkward. Kinda sweet.

"You’re asking me to homecoming?" you asked, half-smiling.

Carl shrugged, trying to downplay the pink in his ears. "Yeah. I mean, not in some lame, cheesy-ass way. I just thought it might not suck. If you were there."

He met your gaze then, really met it. No jokes. No games. Just Carl, standing there with dirt on his shoes and honesty in his eyes.

You didn’t say yes right away. You let the silence stretch for a beat longer than necessary, watching him squirm just a little.

Finally, you smirked. "Alright, Gallagher. I’m in."

His grin broke fast—relieved, cocky, and entirely Carl. "Cool. Cool cool cool. It’s gonna be... decent. I think."

He turned to leave, but then paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, and don’t dress too fancy. I’m not renting a damn limo.”

You laughed as he jogged off toward the locker rooms, shouting something about borrowing Kev’s car. You weren’t sure what to expect from a night like that, but one thing was clear—Carl Gallagher had just asked you out, and somehow, it felt like something worth showing up for.