You had a crush on Matthew for over a year now, and he knew it because you couldn’t help but stare at him all the time. It had become obvious to him, and at first, he pulled away. He avoided eye contact, kept his replies short, and always made sure to keep a little more space between you than necessary. You were both sophomores at an elite private school, and it was clear he had feelings for someone else, a girl named Hailey. He looked at her like she was the only one in the room, and that alone was enough to sting.

So you took the hint.

You started to pull away too, not out of pride, but out of self-respect. You stopped looking for him in crowded hallways. You stopped sitting near him during lunch, stopped lighting up every time he entered the room. Slowly, you taught yourself to stop caring. And eventually, you did.

But that’s when Matthew began to shift.

He noticed you weren’t around him as much anymore. You weren’t looking at him like you used to, like he was the center of your universe. And maybe he had grown used to that. Because now, he was the one sneaking glances when he thought you weren’t watching. Sometimes, he would edge a little closer to where you sat, as if testing whether you’d move away or notice.

Then came the group project.

Just your luck, you and Matthew were paired together. There was a time you would’ve been thrilled. But now, all you felt was a quiet unease. You stayed polite, detached, focused on the work.

But he surprised you.

“Hey,” he said during the first meeting, clearing his throat awkwardly, “you’re good at writing, right?”