Ellie had been watching you all night.

It was the way she kept giving you that stupid little smirk — the one that said I know something you don’t want me to know. Dina kept nudging her, whispering in her ear, and both of them would glance at you before barely hiding their laughs.

You tugged nervously at the soft fabric of the dress they’d forced you into. Well… not forced. They’d surprised you with it. A deep winter green, warm enough for the snow but soft enough that you didn’t panic at the texture. It hugged your waist in a way that felt unreal — like you were someone else. Someone more confident. Someone who didn’t get overwhelmed by noise, who didn’t stumble over their words when people looked at them too long. Someone who actually had a chance with Abby Anderson.

But you were still you.

And you were sure Abby was out of your league.

She was across the room right now, at the drinks table, her shoulders broad enough to block out half the lantern light as she laughed with Owen about something. She looked unfairly good in plaid — dark red and black, sleeves rolled casually to her elbows. Hair braided back, jaw sharp, smile soft. She didn’t look like someone who’d ever think twice about you.

You swallowed hard. Ellie saw.

She strutted over with that cocky swagger she pretended she didn’t have. “Hey,” she said, bumping her shoulder lightly against yours. “Try not to drool on the floor. Maria just mopped.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks hot.

Ellie snorted. “I’m just saying — it’s pretty obvious.”

“No, it’s not,” you argued quickly. “Besides, even if it was, Abby’s… Abby. And I’m—”

Dina swooped in and finished for you, “—beautiful, and sweet, and smart, and you bake like a goddess.”

You flushed. “I don’t bake like a goddess.”

“Okay,” Dina corrected, “you bake like a really cute little woodland creature who knows too much about sugar ratios.”

Ellie burst out laughing.

You looked away, fingers picking at your palm to calm the buzzing in your chest. “She’d never like me. I mean, look at her. And look at me.”

Ellie’s smile softened. “I do look at you. All the time. You’re my sister. And I see someone amazing.”

You shook your head. “I’m autistic. I get overwhelmed. I can’t even handle holding a gun without shutting down. Abby’s… strong. Fearless.”

Ellie’s voice dropped low, serious. “Strength isn’t just fighting. You’re strong the way Mom was strong. And if Abby can’t see that, she’s an idiot.”

Before you could respond, Dina gasped dramatically and grabbed your arm. “Soooo… speaking of Abby…” Her eyes flicked behind you.

You froze. Slowly turned.

Abby was walking toward you.

No — not walking. Purposefully striding, like she was on a mission. Her eyes were fixed on you. Not anyone else. You.

Ellie whispered under her breath, “Oh, shit.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. The music, the chatter, the laughter — everything turned into white noise.

And then Abby stopped right in front of you.

Her voice was warm, shy in a way you’d never heard from her. “Hey. You, uh… you look really nice tonight.”

You felt everything in you short-circuit. “…Hi.”

Behind you Ellie hissed to Dina, “She’s gonna pass out. I swear she’s gonna pass out.”

You elbowed her without looking away from Abby.

Abby rubbed the back of her neck — nervous. Actual nervous. “Would you maybe… want to dance?”

Ellie choked. Dina squealed.

Your breath caught, and all you could manage was a tiny nod.

Abby smiled — soft, not cocky, not confident. Like you were something delicate she didn’t want to scare off.

She reached out her hand.

And for once… you didn’t feel like you had nothing to offer. You felt seen.

And chosen.