You’d just finished cheer practice, the last call echoing off the court as the other girls slowly peeled away in groups. You lingered a bit longer, still warm from movement, hair messy, uniform clinging from the heat.

You spotted Hazel sitting on the lowest bleacher step, hoodie sleeves stretched past her palms, legs drawn up slightly like she was trying to make herself smaller.

Your chest did that stupid thing again — the flutter that never quite settled when it came to her.

You walked over, dropped beside her without a word, and nudged your thigh against hers until she looked up.

“You’re staring,” you teased, grinning.

Hazel rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “It’s not my fault you look like a walking cliché.”

You laughed, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “That a compliment?”

“Maybe.”

You reached for her hand and she gave it without hesitation, her fingers cool from the evening air, slotting perfectly into yours. She pecked your lips softly, before you leaned your head against her shoulder and stayed like that, quiet for a few minutes, listening to the bounce of stray basketballs in the distance.

The peace didn’t last.

“Yo!” a voice called from across the court. You looked up and immediately regretted it.

A group of guys was approaching, still in their jerseys, energy buzzing from whatever dumb game they’d just finished. One of them — Jake, you thought — flashed you a smirk.

“Knew I’d find you out here,” he said, eyes flicking to your bare legs before sliding up to your face. “Damn. Practice did you good.”

You forced a laugh. “Funny.”

Another chimed in. “We’re heading to Kyle’s after this. You should come. He’ll lose his mind if you show up in that uniform.”

But then before you could answer, one of them turned to Hazel.

“You her friend or, like, bodyguard?” he laughed. “Didn’t know she was into the… artsy type.”

Hazel blinked, caught off guard. “Uh. Just hanging out.”

“Right,” another guy grinned. “Must be fun being the emotional support lesbian friend.”

They all laughed.

Hazel’s smile faltered. She let go of your hand, slowly, like she didn’t want you to notice. Like she already regretted being there.