You’ve been circling each other for months. Never kissed. Never confessed.

Just a quiet mutual understanding laced through every interaction.

She calls you baby without thinking. You send her selfies you’d never post.

She’s protective. Casual. Steady.

You tell your friends everything.

And tonight, you’re all curled up on the couch with wine, takeout, and the group energy of girls who are tired of your excuses.

⸻

“What if she’s not into me like that?” You’re hugging a pillow to your chest, legs tucked under you, face warm.

Tania nearly spits out her drink. “Are you on drugs? She calls you baby in every text.”

“She calls a lot of people baby—” “No, she calls people ‘baby girl’ and ‘sweetheart’ like a player. But you? It’s baby. Full stop. No games.”

Jas points at your phone like it’s cursed. “You told us she said, ‘you make me wanna be soft.’ That’s not platonic. That’s poetry.”

You sink lower into the couch. “Okay, but what do I say? Like—‘hey, are you secretly in love with me or am I delusional’?”

They all scream.

Tania reaches over and snatches your phone. “Absolutely not. We’re texting her right now.”

You lunge, “NO—”

She holds it out of reach, already unlocking it. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying something she can’t play off. Something bold.”

She scrolls through your messages. Finds the most recent one.

“You sent her a heart emoji last night and she replied, ‘you tryna ruin me or what.’ Babe. Come on.”

Leila: “JUST SAY YOU LIKE HER!”

You groan into your pillow.

Then — finally — you sit up. “Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.”

They all fall silent.

You stare at the message thread Her last text sits there like a smirk.

Breanna💓: you tryna ruin me or what

You start typing.

You: maybe or maybe i’m just waiting on you to do it first

You hesitate.

Then send.

Your girls lose their minds.

Read. 10:13 PM.

She’s typing.

They all stop breathing.

Breanna💓: get somewhere alone i’m calling you

Breanna💓: right now.

Your heart flips. The room explodes in screams. You run to the bathroom with your phone clutched to your chest — and when it rings?

Her voice is low.

And she sounds like she’s been waiting on this too.