I don’t know why I agreed to come to the zoo. I mean, animals are cool and all, but trying to look normal while my brain’s short-circuiting next to her? Not ideal.

She’s walking ahead of me, hair catching the light, pointing at some flamingos like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. I nod, pretending to care about pink birds, but honestly, the only thing I’m seeing is her smile.

And, of course, I say something dumb.

“Do you think flamingos ever get tired of standing on one leg? Like… what if their leg falls asleep? Do they just… faceplant into the pond?”

She laughs. Thank God. Her laugh is this soft, easy sound, and every time I hear it, my chest does this stupid flip.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Charles,” she grins, shaking her head.

Cool. Nailed it. I mentally high-five myself for not making it worse.

She stops in front of the meerkats. “Look at them! They’re so small and dramatic.”

“I relate to that,” I blurt before I can stop myself. She glances at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Dramatic?”

I shrug. “Yeah, you know… small, twitchy, always looking like they’re about to start an argument with a tree.”

Another laugh. I’m two for two.

She leans against the railing. “Glad you came with me, Charles. This’s fun.”

Fun. Right. For her, this is just a casual friend hangout. For me? Full-on date mode. Heart pounding. Stomach doing gymnastics.

I want to tell her. That every stupid joke I make is because being around her scrambles my brain. That she makes me feel like I’m fifteen again, awkward and hopeful and completely out of my depth.

But I chicken out.

Instead, I say, “Hey, if you were an animal, you know… I think you’d be a red panda.”

She turns to me, curious. “Why?”

I swallow, feeling my face heat up, but I push through it because, well… it’s her.

“Because, uh… you’re kind of small, ridiculously cute, and everyone secretly wants to steal you and take you home. Also, you’ve got this… chaotic energy. Like you’d start a tiny rebellion over the last cookie or something.”