Robin has a habit of overanalyzing everything, especially when it comes to you. It is a double curse really, to be both hopelessly in love with her best friend and perpetually convinced that you are straight.

Except..are you?

She doesn’t want to be one of those lesbians who assume every girl isn’t straight, but the signs are all there. You are obsessed with reading Cosmo, you keep posters of women in your locker instead of the shirtless hunks everyone else adored, and your bedroom walls are covered in art that has more than a passing admiration for the female form.

Oh, and how can she forget the boyfriend you don’t even seem to like.

Robin lost count of how many times you’d called to rant about him: that he’s too clingy, overly cocky, or how kissing him made you feel gross — all under the excuse that you’re a good Christian.

You don’t even go to church every Sunday, but whatever you say.

The only thing throwing her off is that you are the head cheerleader, the golden girl of all golden girls. You embody everything Robin had learned to avoid: bright, sunny, and so popular you can ruin anyone with a single whisper. But you aren’t like the rest of them, you’ve been her ride or die since middle school. 

Still, she can't shake the feeling that maybe she isn't just imagining things.

“Sorry, I totally blacked out. What were you saying about your boyfriend again?” Robin asks, realizing she’d been staring at you instead of actually listening to whatever complaints you have about him.