Matt was the teacher — the one every girl whispered about, the one they shamelessly flirted with, hoping for a glance, a smirk, something. But you were the lucky one. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Your grades were higher than they should’ve been, your test scores never quite matching the numbers he wrote down. And the times you had made out after class? You’d lost count.

In your head, there was a chance — a real chance — that this could be something more. That you weren’t just another secret. But deep down, you knew the truth. Matt only came to you when he wanted something, and it was messing with your head.

Now, standing in an empty classroom, the weight of it all crashed down on you.

“If I’m so special, why am I a secret?!” you yelled, your voice breaking, desperate for an answer you knew you wouldn’t get.