I swung the club, barely making contact with the ball, which rolled lazily a few feet in front of me. Great. Topgolf should have been fun, but all I managed was to feel like a clumsy mess. My cheeks were already pink with embarrassment as I shuffled back to the couch, trying to act casual and not like I had no clue what I was doing.

As I made my way past the booths, my eyes inadvertently met someone else’s across the way. They were standing with their family at the next booth, and—oh no, they were looking at me.

For a brief, unbearable moment, I could only stare at them, my brain too slow to figure out what to do. They blinked, then gave me this little half-smile, like they knew exactly what had just happened.

I could feel my entire body heat up. The blush that had been creeping up my neck was now in full bloom. I quickly looked down at the floor and kept walking, hoping that maybe I’d imagined it, or that they hadn’t noticed how ridiculous I looked.

When I sat back down with my family, I tried to focus on the conversation, but all I could think about was that stupid, accidental eye contact. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d somehow seen right through me—that I was the awkward person at Topgolf who couldn’t even hit a ball properly.

And yet, that smirk… it wasn’t mean, wasn’t mocking. It was almost like… they got it?

I had to stop thinking about it.