You’re sitting with your friends, casually eating ice cream at your usual spot when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Expecting one of your friends, you turn around, only to find a guy standing there. A cute guy.

He holds out a small, slightly crumpled flower, clearly stolen from one of the nearby bushes. His other hand nervously rubs at his shoulder, and he won’t look at you, eyes fixed on the ground as a faint blush creeps up his neck.

“Uh—h-hi. I’m Zane…” he stammers, voice barely above the hum of summer chatter. “I just… I wanted to say—uh, I think you’re really beautiful. I mean—I don’t just think that—I know you are. You’re… really, really pretty.”

From behind him, you hear his friends snickering, and that only deepens the flush on his cheeks. Still, he stays there, holding out the awkward little flower like it’s the bravest thing he’s ever done.