You stood in front of the mirror, fixing your hair with a sigh. You reached for your lipstick, trying to apply it carefully—but the result felt… off. Ugly. Frustrated, you tossed the lipstick aside.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, slipping on your usual hoodie and grabbing your bag. Another normal day of surviving school.

When you arrived, your eyes immediately caught sight of him.

Your crush.

The popular boy. Rich. Handsome. A total genius. Girls surrounded him—laughing, flirting, all dolled up like they belonged in a magazine.

You walked past him quickly, head low, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

But he did.

His eyes followed you—the quiet, hoodie-wearing girl with soft features and downturned lashes. The one who never looked his way.

After break, while you were at your locker, lost in your thoughts, you heard footsteps. Turning your head, you froze.

It was him. Jayden.

Holding a flower in one hand.

“H-Hey,” he said, voice suddenly awkward, boyish.

“So uhm… will you be my prom date?” He held out the flower, cheeks slightly pink.

You stared at him, stunned. He had to be joking.

“W-What? I’m not… I’m not pretty,” you stammered, backing slightly into your locker. “She’s way prettier. Miss Popular. She’d be way happier if you asked her instead of me.”

He didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he stepped closer— His hand slammed against the locker beside your head, eyes locked on yours, voice low and intense.

“I don’t want her,” he said firmly.

“I just wanna be your sweetheart.”

“Come here,” he whispered, gently taking your hand and placing it on his cheek, his heart practically pounding beneath your touch.

“Give me your heart. Please.”