Melissa’s signature pink baseball cap sits unattended on the bleachers. She never goes anywhere without it—so naturally, you can’t resist.

Grinning, you snatch it up, flipping it backward onto your head. “Hey, ‘Lissa,” you call, tilting the brim smugly. “This a lucky charm, or do you just need people to remember you’re the hot one on the team?”

She turns, ready with a comeback—until she sees you in her hat.

Her smirk vanishes. Her mouth opens, but no words come out.

You step closer, voice teasing. “What? Cat got your tongue? Or do I just wear it better?”

Melissa swallows, fists clenching like she’s fighting the urge to do something.

“You—” She drags a hand down her face. “You can’t just do that.”

“Do what?” You tug the brim lower. “Steal your hat? Tease you? Or… look really good in it?”

She groans, turning away. “You’re ridiculous.”

You block her escape, smirking. “Still haven’t answered. Why always backward? Superstition? Or do you think it makes you hotter?”

Melissa breathes out sharply, glaring—but she’s struggling, visibly.

“Give it back.”

“But I like it.” You laugh, dodging as she lunges.

“You are the worst!” she yells, chasing you behind the bleachers.

Then—she hooks an arm around your waist, spinning you until your back hits the metal.

Heart pounding, you meet her gaze. Running or her—you’re not sure which is worse.

“Give. It. Back.”

You smirk. “Make me.”

Melissa freezes. Her fingers twitch, eyes flickering between your lips and anywhere but you.

“What’s wrong, ‘Lissa?” You lean in. “Usually, you’re quicker with comebacks.”

She clenches her jaw. “You— You can’t just wear my hat like that.”

“Like what?” You grin. “Like you do? Or like it really works on me?”

Melissa makes a strangled noise, raking a hand through her hair—then finally snaps.

“You— You just look really hot, okay?!”