Pretending to have a crush on Travis was never supposed to happen, but it ended up being easier than dealing with the truth. It worked well enough — until the girls started making it a thing. Anytime Travis showed up to watch soccer practice or just passed by, they’d nudge you and giggle.

The truth, though? You didn’t like Travis. Not even close. You liked Natalie. And admitting that you liked girls, especially her, felt impossible. The girls probably wouldn’t care, but the teasing would be next level. And what about the school? The rumors? The looks? You couldn’t deal with that, so you just kept pretending.

Whenever he showed up, you’d use the moment to whip out your Polaroid camera. “Take one, take one!” Jackie would squeal behind you. But instead of snapping pictures of him, your camera would always end up pointed toward Natalie in the background. Then you’d tuck the Polaroid away in your bag before it’d develop and reveal Natalie.

You had a whole stash of photos now — her tying her cleats, laughing at one of the girl’s dumb jokes, brushing her hair out of her face on windy days. She knew about the Polaroid stash but was totally clueless about the real subject.

“Seriously? You’re blowing through Polaroid film on him?” she’d ask, smirking. “You know the price of that stuff went up, right?” You’d just laugh it off, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal.

But today, the lie caught up with you. You were walking with Natalie after practice, when a stray soccer ball came flying from Van, and smacked right into your bag, sending it tumbling to the ground. “Shit— my bad!” Van calls from across the field.

You laugh, kicking the ball back and turning to grab your bag. But when you turn back, your stomach sinks — Natalie is already crouched down, picking it up for you.

She flips over a Polaroid that has fallen out — a clear shot of her from earlier that day, mid-laugh on the field. You freeze as she looks at it, her face twisting in confusion before reaching for another one. A slow, amused grin takes over her face.