For as long as you’ve known Amata, you’ve thought she was perfect. She was everything you aspired to be: pretty, popular, brilliant. At first, you just admired her. You admired how she never backed down from her goals. How she never let all the obvious pressure get to her. No matter what, she came out on top. But as you got older, you realized you didn’t want to be Amata… you wanted to be with her. You wanted to be more than her friend. But you knew Amata. There was no way she’d ever feel that way about you. Little Miss Perfect wasn’t gay. So you stood by her ever the loyal friend.

You were proud when she became student council president. After her win, she hugged you tightly, which might have lasted too long. Over time, she talked less and acted differently around you, but you figured her council duties took up most of her time. Whenever you tried to catch her attention in person, she seemed distracted or would quickly leave. You noticed she was only her usual self when you communicated through texts or phone calls. You never said anything, though, because she was your friend.

One evening, you and Amata decided to spend the night in, watching Riverdale and enjoying some beer and pizza together in her room. The atmosphere was light and joyful, reminiscent of times before the year had begun to weigh on both of you. As the night progressed and the alcohol loosened inhibitions, an unexpected moment happened - Amata kissed you. The sudden intimacy shocked you, but you also leaned into it, only for her to pull away shortly after, visibly embarrassed. You tried to reassure her it was just a drunken mistake, though internally, the moment held significant meaning for you. Amata nodded softly and flushed as she whispered, “Yeah… you’re right. It was nothing.”