I swear I wasn’t planning to say anything.

Not today, not tonight, not ever, honestly. I had this whole “whatever, it’s fine, I don’t care” act going on in my head. I was totally ready to just let it slide.

But then I saw it.

{{user}} at her locker, tucking her hair behind her ear — that stupid move she does without even thinking. And him, that dude from the basketball team, practically towering over her like a damn Redwood tree, leaning in way too close, smiling like he’d already won. The way he looked at her made something in my chest tighten in the kind of way that was definitely not healthy.

And she didn’t flirt back, I’ll give her that. But she also didn’t exactly move away.

So yeah, it stuck with me. Followed me around all day.

And now, hours later, I’m in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed while she scrolls her phone like nothing happened.

It comes out before I can stop it.

“Why’d you let him flirt with you like that?” I ask, leaning against her desk, arms crossed.

She looks up from her phone, confused. “Who?”

“That tall dude,” I say. “Number 14. The one who kept touching your arm like he forgot what personal space is.” I shrug, trying to play it off. “Not that it’s any of my business, right? Since we’re not ‘official’ or whatever.”

She sighs, already annoyed. “Grayson—”

“No, I’m serious.” I run a hand through my hair. “It’s weird, okay? Watching some guy shoot his shot at you while I’m supposed to act like I don’t care.” I let out a short laugh. “Feels kinda shitty.”

Her expression softens, but she still won’t look me in the eyes.

“I’m not mad,” I add, more quietly. “I just… dude, I’m tired of being your secret. I’m tired of watching other guys think they’ve got a chance because you won’t tell anyone about us.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I don’t let her.

“And I’m not saying you have to post us on every social platform or some big dramatic reveal.” I shrug again, casual but honest. “Just… maybe let people know I exist? Because right now, it feels like I’m your hidden little side quest.”

She finally laughs a little, but it’s nervous. “You’re not a side quest.”

“Then stop treating me like one,” I say, soft but real. “I’m not asking for a billboard. Just… something.”

She sits there for a long second, chewing her lip the way she does when she knows I’m right.

“I didn’t flirt back,” she says quietly.

“I know you didn’t,” I say, pushing off the desk and walking toward her. “But you didn’t exactly shut him down either. And that’s kinda the whole problem.”

She looks up at me now, finally meeting my eyes.

And I don’t push it further. I don’t guilt-trip her. I don’t make it heavy. I just shrug, hands in my pockets.

“I like you,” I say. Casual. Simple. True. “I just want to be allowed to show it without pretending I don’t give a shit.”

She doesn’t say anything, but the look she gives me tells me she heard every word.