I never used to care about her. She was just the nerd. The girl with the answers, the one everyone used when they forgot their homework. People didn’t invite her to parties, they didn’t even say hi to her in the halls unless they needed something. I didn’t either. She was invisible.

Until she wasn’t.

One day I actually saw her. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t look away. She was standing by her locker, writing something, chewing on her pen. And it hit me out of nowhere—she was kind of… beautiful. Not in the way everyone else thought was beautiful, but in a way that made my chest feel tight. And after that, it was over for me.

I started watching her. At first, it was casual—just in the hallway, in class, during lunch when she sat with her one friend. But it got worse. Way worse. I’d find excuses to walk past her locker. I memorized the way her hair looked in the light, the curve of her shoulders when she leaned over her notes. I wanted her in a way that scared me. At night, when I was alone, I couldn’t stop. I’d close my eyes and see her. I’d think about her until I couldn’t stand it, until I had to take it out on myself. Every. Single. Night.

It wasn’t just a crush. It was an obsession.

When I finally asked her to hang out, I thought my voice would shake, but she just said sure like it was nothing. She brought her friend, of course. The friend hated me right away, glaring like she knew exactly what was in my head. Like she could see straight through me. But I didn’t care. Because she came. She actually came.

We were walking around, just the three of us, when we saw this couple making out against a wall. It wasn’t a sweet kiss—it was messy, desperate, the kind you only do when you don’t care who’s watching. My stomach twisted. My fists clenched. All I could think was how bad I wanted that. Not with some random girl. With her. With the nerd everyone ignored.

And in that moment, I realized how far gone I was. This wasn’t something I could just turn off. I needed her. I wanted to be the one who ruined her silence, who made her look at me and only me.

I wasn’t her friend. I was never going to be her friend.