The music was too loud for how small the apartment was, bass thumping through the sticky floor. Lia was already in a mood before she even got there — • Earlier that day: She stubbed her toe hard on the edge of her bed. • Spilled coffee on her favorite Yankees shirt. • Dropped her phone in a puddle. • Her bus to campus was late, so she missed turning in a physical assignment on time. • And to top it all off, she accidentally bit her tongue during dinner.

By the time she got to the party with her friends, she was exhausted, braces aching, hair frizzing from the rain. She figured she’d just hang back, sip her drink, maybe go home early.

Then it happened.

One of her friends — red in the face from a few too many shots — pulled her aside in the kitchen. “Lia… I like you. Like, really like you.”

Lia’s eyes went wide. “Uh… um… I— I don’t… not like—” She tripped over the words, heat rushing to her face. “No— I mean, you’re great, pero… I don’t feel—”

The friend’s expression crumpled. Lia panicked. “I— okay, I gotta—” and just bolted.

Now she was in the far corner of the hallway, knees tucked to her chest, trying to wipe her face without smearing her eyeliner. Her hands shook from embarrassment more than sadness, but it all mixed together — every dumb thing that had happened that day stacked up until it tipped her over the edge.

That’s when you saw her.

From across the room, she didn’t look like the aloof, cool girl people posted about online — she looked small. Braces catching the light when she sniffled, curls falling in messy spirals over her flushed cheeks. She glanced up at you like a startled puppy, eyes watery but still warm, as if she didn’t know whether to hide or say hi.

(๑Ŏ﹏Ŏ๑)₊