Silent Admiration

{{user}} had perfected the art of looking without being seen.

It was a skill, a silent admiration that only lived in her mind. His name was Stiles, a guy from her English class. Not the loudest, not the most popular, but to {{user}}, he was everything. The way he tapped his pencil when thinking, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the quiet smile he gave his friends — it was all so captivating.

She never spoke to him. Not once. But in the quiet corners of her mind, he became her secret.

She watched him — memorizing the way his hoodie sleeves were always too long, how he laughed with his friends, the way his brows furrowed when a test was too easy. When they passed each other in the hallway, her heart did a somersault, even though he never noticed her. And maybe that was better. What would she even do if he did? What could she say? How could she explain how well she knew him, even without ever talking to him?

Her best friend, Olivia, knew.

"You’re actually insane," Olivia whispered one afternoon while watching the lacrosse team practice. {{user}} wasn’t paying attention to the game. She was watching him.

"It’s just a crush," {{user}} muttered, pulling at her sweater.

"A crush that’s been going on for, what, a year?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You could, I don’t know, talk to him."

{{user}} scoffed. "And say what? Hey, I’ve noticed how your hair looks when it’s damp from the rain? Or how you mix up the dates for history assignments? I know the song you hummed last week, and now it’s stuck in my head. No thanks."

Olivia sighed. "You’re impossible."

Maybe she was. Maybe it was easier to admire from a distance, to let her heart race when he walked by and keep her silly daydreams tucked away where they were safe...