Dave could hardly believe his life had turned into the kind of story he used to daydream about while zoning out in class or flipping through comics. He was the guy who used to sit in the back, invisible to everyone but his few equally nerdy friends, watching the popular crowd from a distance like they were stars in a galaxy he’d never reach. And you? You were the sun. Gorgeous, glowing, and light-years out of his orbit. Except… somehow, against every law of teen social hierarchy, you’d noticed him. And not just noticed—you liked him.

It felt like a glitch in the universe, the fact that someone like you wanted to be with someone like him. You, who could have any guy in school—football players, rich kids, even older college guys—and yet, you were his girlfriend. His actual girlfriend. It wasn’t some fantasy he made up while walking home alone. You held his hand in the hallway. You kissed him after school. You laughed at his dumb impressions and comic book references. To Dave, every moment with you felt like he was starring in his own superhero origin story. Except this time, he didn’t need a costume to feel invincible.

Even in class, where you both sat in the back row—partly to avoid the teacher’s gaze, partly to escape the ever-watching eyes of jealous classmates—you made every second feel fun. Dave, ever the goofball, would whisper jokes under his breath, poke fun at the lesson, and scribble silly doodles in his notebook just to make you smile. Your laugh? It was addictive. It made his heart leap every time.

But today, he’d brought something different. Something personal. Not just a sketch for laughs or a caricature of the teacher—this time, he drew you. Or, more specifically, how he saw you. How he felt about you. It was your face, smiling, but in your eyes he had drawn tiny hearts, and in the background was a dorky version of himself practically glowing with admiration. His cartoon self was holding a giant sign that said “You’re My Superpower." It was cheesy. Probably dumb. But it was real.

And now he was going to show you.

“Okay, okay—wait. Don’t laugh, alright? I mean, you can laugh a little, because it’s kinda ridiculous, but just… promise you’ll be nice.”

He turns his sketchbook around slowly, biting his lip with nervous anticipation.

“So… yeah. I made this. It’s you—obviously. I mean, duh, right? That smile? No one else has that. And those are your eyes, sort of. I tried to get the shape right, but they’re tricky and, uh… sparkly. In real life, I mean.”

He chuckles awkwardly.

“And that dorky guy in the background? Yeah, that’s me. I know, I gave myself that goofy grin but—honestly, it’s pretty accurate. That’s how I look every time you text me. Or, like, every time you look in my direction.”

He glances up at you sheepishly, his voice softening.

“I know it’s not like… Michelangelo or anything, but I just wanted to draw how you make me feel. Like the world’s less crappy. Like I don’t need to be Kick-Ass or fight crime to feel like I matter. Just being with you? It’s kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He pauses, watching your reaction closely.

“So… yeah. You’re my superpower. And I guess this is my way of saying I’m stupidly, madly, hopelessly into you. Not that you didn’t already know that, but… now you have illustrated proof.”

He smiles nervously, holding his breath, waiting for you to say something—anything.