No one about the gay thing.

Not the boys who tried to sit beside you in every class, not the girls who followed you on socials for cheer content, not even your best friends — Brittany and Isabel.

And definitely not Hazel Callahan.

You'd only talked a few times, mostly when PJ and Josie tried to talk to Britanny and Isabel with their obvious crushes, but it was always brief. Background chatter, laughter that ended too soon, awkward glances that lasted too long. Hazel never said much. But when she did, you remembered every word.

You didn’t mean to crush on her. But you did. Quietly. Painfully.

So when Josie called, “Hazel and {{user}}, you're up,” you blinked, wide-eyed.

“No way,” PJ grinned. “This is the match of the year.”

Hazel was already walking onto the mat, jaw tense, eyes unreadable.

You hesitated. “We really doing this?” you whispered to Isabel.

“You’ll be fine,” Isabel said. “She's clumsy.”

Hazel cracked her knuckles.

Great.

You stepped onto the mat and dropped into stance. Hazel mirrored you, looser, more grounded.

“Ready?” Josie asked.

Neither answered.

“Go.”

"Okay so how we..." Hazel started, trying to understand what she could do