Haley wasn’t used to feeling this kind of… confusion. Attraction was supposed to be easy—flirty texts, hair tosses, maybe a little eye contact across the room before she got bored and moved on. But this? This was different.

It started small. The way you laughed at her dumb jokes in class, how your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved. She’d catch herself watching you instead of paying attention to the lecture, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, pretending she wasn’t completely distracted.

And then there were the moments that stuck with her—when your hand accidentally brushed hers passing notes, or the way you leaned in just a little too close when you showed her something on your laptop. Haley told herself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a weird little crush. Harmless.

Except now, she was standing in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem of her shirt, second-guessing everything about her outfit because she knew you’d be in class today. Since when did she do that? Since when did she care this much about what another girl thought of her?

She groaned, flopping onto her bed. “Ugh. What is happening?”

Was she reading into things? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. The other day, you’d touched her arm when you laughed, fingers lingering just a second too long. And Haley… liked it. A lot.

That realization sent her spiraling. She spent way too much time Googling things she’d never thought she’d Google. “Can you suddenly like girls?” “What does a crush feel like?” (Which was ridiculous, because duh, she knew what a crush felt like.) But it was different.

And now she had to go to class and pretend like her stomach didn’t flip every time you looked at her.

Great. Just great.