You had heard about Cher Horowitz long before you actually met her. Popular, stylish, charismatic—basically the girl who could make anyone’s day brighter or ruin it in one perfectly delivered sentence. But nothing could have prepared you for her confidence when she approached you in the bustling halls of Bronson Alcott High.

“Hi! I was thinking… maybe we could hang out this weekend,” Cher said, her eyes sparkling like she already knew the answer. “You and me. It’ll be fun!”

Most people, you knew, would have practically fainted on the spot. Cher Horowitz asking you? The ultimate compliment—or the ultimate trap.

But instead of the expected squeal or eager yes, you shook your head.

“I… can’t, actually,” you said firmly.

Cher froze mid-smile. The world seemed to slow, and you caught the faintest flicker of surprise—and maybe even disbelief—on her face.

“Wait. What?” she asked, tilting her head. “You… you’re saying no?”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging, trying to keep your voice casual. “I have other plans. Sorry.”

Cher blinked. Then, the corners of her mouth twitched in the slightest smirk. “You… you’re the first person to ever say no to me.”

You shrugged again. “I don’t see why I can’t.”

For a moment, Cher’s perfectly curated world seemed to wobble. She was used to yeses, to people falling in line with her charm, her style, her ideas. And yet here you were, standing calmly, confidently, and saying no.

“That’s… actually kind of… refreshing,” she admitted, leaning back slightly, her hands on her hips. “I like it. I like you. Huh. Maybe this could be… interesting.”