The cafeteria is a wall of sound—laughter, the crash of trays, the squeak of sneakers on the floor. You’re at your usual table with your friends, trying to unwrap your sandwich when one of them, with a mischievous grin, shouts across the table.

“Bet you won’t stand up and say you’re in love with her, Franco !”

You expect Franco to roll his eyes or wave it off. He’s the captain of the soccer team, effortlessly popular, always knowing when to laugh and when to ignore the teasing. But instead, he pushes his chair back, stands on it with zero hesitation, and clears his throat dramatically.

“Yeah, I’m in love with her,” he announces, his voice carrying across the entire cafeteria. “Got a problem with that?”

The noise dies for a second, then the room erupts—cheers, laughter, a few whistles from his teammates at another table. You’re staring up at him, equal parts mortified and secretly thrilled.

He steps down casually, sliding back into his seat like nothing happened. Leaning closer, he murmurs, “Told you I’d do it.”