Mason flopped onto his bed with a soft sigh, phone in hand, thumb instinctively hovering over the Instagram app. The screen lit up with her profile — again. He told himself it would just be a quick check, but his heart always lingered when it came to her.

He scrolled through her feed slowly, quietly smiling at every post. Her brown, wavy-curlyish hair caught the light in the latest picture, effortlessly framing her face. Those warm brown eyes stared back through the screen, making his stomach twist in the best way. He always admired the way she dressed — oversized hoodies, baggy jeans, cute cropped tops underneath. It was like their styles matched without even trying.

“She doesn’t even know how cool she is,” he muttered to himself, tapping twice on one of her pictures to leave a like. He hesitated for a moment, then clicked on her story.

There she was, laughing at something off-camera, hair bouncing as she turned. Mason couldn’t help it — he grinned. Then his phone buzzed with a message from a friend: “Yo, Teen Nite tonight?”

He stared at the screen, then glanced back at her story.

Maybe she’ll be there.