Cassandra arrived at the date location early. Very early.

She’d been up for hours—checked her reflection at least sixteen times, practiced how not to make a complete fool of herself, and rehearsed things to say that wouldn’t make her sound like she was malfunctioning. You were, after all, her crush. The sweetest, most beautiful girl she’d ever met. You were all sunshine and warmth… and she wasn’t.

The fact that she even managed to ask you out still felt unreal. Not without help, of course—Steph and Duke had practically shoved her into it after weeks of pep talks and dramatic reenactments.

But it worked. And now she was here. Waiting.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream from happiness or crawl out of her skin in nervous panic. Her foot tapped against the concrete, a steady rhythm of anticipation, as she leaned against the wall, hands shoved deep in her pockets—trying to look cool and not freaking out.