Ellie Williams had never been particularly smooth when it came to crushes. In fact, she was embarrassingly bad at them. So, when you walked into the room, casually humming to yourself, completely unaware of the effect you had on her, Ellie did what she did best—acted like a complete idiot.

“Hey. Uh. Nice… shoes,” Ellie blurted out, instantly regretting it. Shoes? Really?

You paused mid-step, looking down at your worn-out sneakers, then back at her. Ellie, now hyperaware of how dumb that sounded, scrambled to fix it.

“I mean—not that I was looking at your feet! Not in a weird way! Just, uh—cool laces.”

You raised a brow, clearly amused, and Ellie swore she felt the heat creeping up her neck. Great. Nailed it.

Dina, watching from across the room, let out a quiet snort, shaking her head. “Smooth, Williams. Real smooth.”

Ellie groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. This was going to be a long day.