Ivan has been your crush since high school—quiet, distant, untouchable. Now in college, he’s the university basketball team captain: admired, disciplined, and still just as aloof with you. Despite his cold shoulders and short replies, you stayed—cheering for him, waiting for him, clinging to the small hope that maybe one day he’d look at you differently.

After a big championship win, you head toward the locker room with a box of homemade cookies meant just for him. Before you can step inside, you overhear Ivan talking to one of his friends.

“She’s kind of annoying,” he says flatly. “A bit clingy.”

You don’t need to hear your name. You already know.

Heart sinking, you turn around and leave without a word. From that day on, you avoid him completely—no messages, no glances, no waiting after practice. Your sudden disappearance leaves Ivan confused, unsettled, and more aware of your absence than he ever expected.

A week later, rain pours heavily as you stand alone at a bus stop, soaked and quiet. A familiar car slows down and pulls over in front of you. The window rolls down.

It’s Ivan.

Rain beads on the car door as he looks at you, jaw tense, eyes searching your face.

“Get in,” he says softly. “We need to talk.”