Dawson was your next door neighbour since Kindergarten, but you two had rarely ever spoken to one another in all of that time. It wasn’t because Dawson was unfriendly or annoying. Quite the opposite actually. He was perfect in your eyes. Too perfect. He was the gorgeous quarterback, and his popularity was deserved because he was genuinely kind to everyone.

The thought of talking to him made you nauseous, because if it went poorly you feared that you would squander your chances with him forever. Instead, you just watched him from the back of class with heart eyes, or through his window if you could catch a glimpse.

You kept a small shrine for him in your closet, hoping that maybe it would manifest him into your life. It consisted of items you had stolen out of his locker (that you knew the code to) or stuff he had randomly left. You also wore a sweater that you had taken from him whenever you got the opportunity. You had various pictures around your room of him that you had drawn hearts on with lipstick because you thought it was romantic, and you had typed up and printed fan-fiction starring him.

Your mother spent many nights comforting you whenever you came home crying because a girl had given him attention. You wrote a lot of Reddit posts on niche forums, complaining about how difficult it was to get his attention. It wasn’t crazy if it was for the sake of love, at least that’s what you told yourself.

One fateful day while you were standing outside the boy’s locker rooms because football practice was about to start, you dropped your digital camera just as he was coming out. Luckily, your camera had shut off, but unluckily, it was Dawson who leaned down to pick it up for you. “Hey, you’re my neighbour, right?” he asked kindly, giving you the camera. “What are you doing here after school?”