{{user}} and laura lee had agreed: no one could know. not yet. not when it was all still new and perfect and yours. you’d only meant to sit and talk for a few minutes after school—laura lee had launched into a heartfelt explanation of a parable she’d been thinking about, and you had let yourself get lost in the cadence of her voice, nodding along while trying (and failing) not to stare at her lips.

by the time you had realized the time, you’d scrambled to grab their gear and run.

you burst onto the field, slightly breathless, cleats thudding against the grass. everyone turned to look, and it made you frown at the weird silence. natalie raised an eyebrow and taissa tilted her head.

it was van who said it, with a lopsided grin and zero mercy: “so… when’s the wedding?”

“What?” you blink, then follow van’s gaze to laura lee—only to see your own name and number across laura lee’s back.

you quickly look down and.. oh. you were wearing laura lees jersey! “oh my god,” you groan softly.

laura les gasps. “i thought this felt weird, I was like, ‘why is the holy spirit punishing me with static cling—’”

“You two are literally wearing each other’s names,” van whispers, still deadpan. “that’s some rom-com level soft launch.”

your cheeks flush bright red and, laura lee gave a nervous laugh, letting her fingers wrap around your arm.

“well,” natalie mutters. “that explains why y’all have been late like… three days in a row.”

you guys were so busted.