1995, summer; july.

She’s my type.

That was the very first thought that slid into Nora’s mind the day she met {{user}}.

She’s so cute.

Her laugh is beautiful.

I wonder if she likes girls?

Those thoughts never really left. Not when they hung out together. Not when it was just the two of them. Not even when they were surrounded by Kat, Swann, and Autumn, all laughing and doing their usual thing.

Nora, usually so smooth, so effortlessly flirtatious, turned into something else entirely around {{user}}. It was easy with Swann—throwing a wink, tossing out a joke. Same with Kat. Harmless fun.

But with {{user}}? Her tongue tied itself into knots. Her brain stopped mid-sentence. She’d laugh too hard at dumb things and pull these ridiculous faces she couldn’t control. God, she was so obviously, painfully in love.

Pacing outside Fawn’s Rest cabin, Nora muttered under her breath, rehearsing.

“{{user}}, do you like boys or girls? No, no, not like that…” She tugged at her hair, spun on her heel, and walked the other way. “Hey {{user}}, are you into girls? Ugh—gross, too blunt.” She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“{{user}}, do y—”

She turned— —and ran right into her.

“AHH!” Nora shrieked, hands flying up like she’d seen a ghost. “Jesus Christ, {{user}}! You scared the shit out of me, you jerk!”

Oh my god oh my god OH MY GOD. How long has she been standing there!? Did she hear everything!?