The kiss still lingered on Michelle's lips hours later.
She walked through the school corridors with a strange lightness, like her heart had finally found rhythm. But even in that joy, something weighed in the back of her mind—would things be different now?
Would Steve act differently when they were no longer alone?
At lunch, she found her usual table already full. Lila waved her over, patting the empty seat beside her. "Come here, dream girl," she whispered, smirking. "Tell me everything."
Michelle grinned and sat down. "He kissed me," she said, trying to sound casual. "On the balcony."
Lila's eyes widened. "No way."
Before Michelle could reply, Steve entered the cafeteria. He looked effortlessly cool in a black hoodie and jeans, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
Their eyes met.
Michelle gave him a soft, hopeful smile. Just something small.
But he hesitated.
He looked at her… then at the crowd… then turned and walked toward his usual table with the guys from the basketball team.
Her smile faded.
Lila's expression stiffened. "Really? After that kiss?"
"I guess he's not ready to be public," Michelle muttered, lowering her eyes.
But deep down, it stung.
That evening, Michelle sat on the windowsill in her dorm room, trying not to let the disappointment swallow her.
Her phone buzzed.
Steve:Can we talk?
Michelle:Now?
Steve:Outside your building. I'm here.
She stepped outside into the cool evening air. Steve was standing by the railing, the golden light of the setting sun casting a glow over him.
"Hey," he said.
Michelle crossed her arms. "Hey."
There was a pause.
"I know I messed up," he said. "I saw your face in the cafeteria. And I hated myself for it."
"Then why did you do it?" she asked, voice quiet but steady.
Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Because I panicked. Because part of me is still afraid of how everyone will look at me… at us. Not because I'm ashamed of you—God, Michelle, never that—but because I've never felt this vulnerable before."
Michelle looked up at him. "And what about me? I stood there, hoping for something. Anything. Do you know how small I felt when you walked away?"
Steve stepped closer. "You should never feel small. Not because of me."
Another pause. The wind rustled the trees.
"I want to be better," he said finally. "For you. For us. So tomorrow, I'll do better. I'll sit beside you. I'll hold your hand. If you let me."
Michelle studied him for a long second. His eyes were full of apology. Of promise.
Then she softened.
"I just want to be seen, Steve. All the way."
He reached for her hand.
"You are. You always were. I was just late to catch up."