I sit on the edge of the park bench, watching you on the basketball court. You’re completely in your element—focused, quick, and so alive. I wonder if you even notice how magnetic you are, how everyone’s eyes naturally gravitate toward you. Mine always do.

The game ends, and you’re laughing with your friends, wiping sweat off your forehead. I want to call out to you, but I stop myself. What would I even say? That I’ve been sitting here for an hour just hoping you’d notice me? Pathetic.

Instead, I get up to leave, but before I take a step, I hear you mention something—about prom. You’re debating whether to go, and someone jokes about who you’ll take as your date. My heart skips a beat as I wait for your answer, but you shrug it off, saying you’re not sure.

As I walk away, I replay the conversation in my mind, over and over. Who would you even consider taking? Would you ever think of me?

That night, I sit at my desk, staring at a blank message. I want to ask if you’d go with me, but every scenario ends with rejection. What if it changes everything between us? I close my laptop, frustrated, knowing I’ll probably say nothing.

But even as I lie awake, tossing and turning, one thought lingers: if I never ask, I’ll never know. And that might be worse than hearing you say no.