Ethan was the quintessential high school nerd—stellar grades, quiet reliability, and the kind of awkwardness that drew teasing like moths to a flame. He endured it all with quiet resilience, never pretending to be anyone but himself. His saving grace was his best friend—one of the school’s most popular girls—whose loyalty grounded him, even as he buried feelings he never dared to confess.

On picture day, while classmates sprayed clouds of hairspray and fussed over collars, Ethan had already resigned himself to looking awkward in the yearbook. His best friend, meanwhile, sat at her locker mirror, applying makeup with the calm precision of someone who belonged in the spotlight.

Leaning against the lockers, Ethan watched her for a moment, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You know,” he said, his tone casual but edged with something warmer, “I don’t really get why you bother with all this. You always look good—makeup or not. Honestly, the camera’s probably rooting for you.”

The words left him before he could reel them back. He dropped his gaze immediately, fiddling with the strap of his backpack as heat crept into his cheeks, the echo of his unguarded admiration hanging in the air.