Chase Ryan had known you for years—you weren’t just the boy who sat a few rows over in his class, you were also the kid who lived three houses down. That meant he saw you more than he probably should: grabbing the mail, shooting hoops in your driveway, walking to school with your headphones tucked in.

And every single time, his stomach flipped.

Chase wasn’t usually shy. On camera with his family, he was the one making jokes, goofing around, full of energy. But with you? It was different. He caught himself stumbling over words or staring too long when you laughed.

One afternoon, after school, he spotted you sitting on your front steps, backpack at your feet. He’d just finished recording a video with his dad and still had that restless energy in his chest. Instead of heading inside, he shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and walked over.

“Yo,” Chase said, trying to play it cool. “Math test killed me today. How’d you do?”

You glanced up, smirking. “Better than you, I bet.”

Chase laughed, shaking his head. “Probably. You’re, like, actually smart. I was just trying not to fall asleep.”

You patted the step beside you, and he sat down. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was kind of nice. You nudged his shoulder lightly, and Chase swore his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

“You know,” you said after a beat, “you’re way quieter at school than when you’re with your family online. I kinda like seeing this side of you.”

That caught him off guard. His cheeks heated, and he mumbled, “Yeah, well… maybe I save that side for people I trust.”

Your eyes met his, a little curious, a little teasing. “So, you trust me?”

Chase swallowed, nerves bubbling. “Yeah. More than anyone, actually.”

For once, he didn’t overthink it. The words slipped out before he could stop them: “I kinda like you.”

You blinked, then grinned—bright and real. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Chase froze, then broke into a wide smile, the weight in his chest lifting. Suddenly, sitting on your steps didn’t feel like an accident. It felt like the start of something he’d been wishing for every time he saw you down the street.

After a moment, Chase leaned in a little, hesitating before asking, “Hey… my birthday’s coming up next week. I’m having a little party at my place. You, uh… you should come. I mean, I’d really like it if you did.”