Amy had a nail appointment. Something about needing to "reset her soul through acrylics." She offered to walk me halfway home before heading to her nail tech, but I waved her off.
"I'll be fine," I told her.
She raised a brow. "You sure? You get weird when you're alone with your thoughts."
"Wow. Thanks. Love the support."
"Lucas," she said, placing her hand dramatically over her heart, "you know I mean it lovingly."
"Go spoil yourself and spam me ugly finger pics," I said, shooing her like a fly. "I'm not a baby anymore."
She hugged me like I still was and left.
And just like that, I was alone.
I let out a sigh so deep I probably lost two years of emotional baggage. Damn. What a day. My life had somehow turned into a rom-com written by someone drunk and emotionally repressed.
I started heading home. I really did. My legs were moving in the right direction.
But then I heard yelling from the football field. My feet paused. My soul paused. I had two choices: be normal, go home, do homework—or cave to the horny/curious part of me that wondered, "Is Blake still out there?"
Spoiler alert: I caved.
Amy, please forgive me. I swear I tried to stop. But I really, really like Blake.
I wandered over to the field and slid onto the bottom bench closest to the track. It was empty. Everyone else was on the field tackling each other and flexing like they were auditioning for a superhero movie. Honestly, if I didn't already have it bad for Blake, I might've developed a crush on one of those guys. Some of them were way too good-looking to be that aggressive. The nerve.
But I shook it off and scanned the field for him.
Blake was nowhere.
Great. I had one job: sit quietly and stare like a desperate little loser. Now the main subject of my stalking had disappeared.
I was just about to give up and head home when—
"Hey there."
I nearly jumped out of my skin and landed on the actual ground. My hip slammed into the bench on the way down.
"Ow," I muttered, mentally writing my own eulogy.
I looked up.
Blake.
Standing above me, sweaty and golden like he'd just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Tank top. Baggy shorts. Towel slung around his neck. Water bottle in one hand. Absently flexing those arms like he didn't know they were a national treasure.
He grinned. "Now this looks awfully familiar."
My brain short-circuited.
"H-Hey, Blake."
He tilted his head. "So, you know who I am…" He squinted playfully. "And you are?"
Right. He still didn't remember me.
"I'm Lucas. We're in the same chemistry class," I said quickly.
Blake rubbed his chin. "Seriously? That's where I know you from?"
He stared at me like I was a puzzle missing too many pieces. Like he knew he'd seen me somewhere but just couldn't put it together.
I gave a sheepish smile.
After a beat, he gave up. "Alright, Lucas. Nice to meet you. What're you doing out here? Trying out for the team?"
I let out the most horrified laugh. "Oh god, no. I suck at anything that requires movement or coordination."
He snorted. "So… why are you here then?"
I hesitated, then went with the truth. "I was on my way home, saw you guys were still practicing, and figured I'd watch for a bit. Also, needed to clear my head. Lot of crap went down today."
Now, you might think: wow, Lucas is doing a great job. Look at him. Holding it together, talking smoothly to his ex–best friend–turned–crush. He's nailing it.
Yeah. No.
Inside, I was combusting. My heart was thudding like it was trying to escape. I was basically holding a casual conversation with Blake. For the first time in years. He was finally seeing me.
Take me now.
Then Blake squinted, like a bulb went off. "Wait… weren't you the dude standing outside my house the other day? The one that got dragged by that goth chick?"
"Looks like you caught me."
He narrowed his eyes. "How the heck did you know where I live?"
"Oh, that's easy. We live in the same neighborhood. I was walking with Amy when I saw you. Just wanted to say hi."
Blake blinked like that was brand-new information. "Seriously? How come we've never run into each other before?"
"Fate. Or my intense fear of being perceived," I muttered.
He laughed. Then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, he said, "How about this—after training, since we both need the company, I'll change real quick and we can walk home together."
I died. Right there. RIP me.
I nodded, managing not to pass out.
Blake gave me a friendly pat on the back. "Cool. Be right back."
And then he jogged off, leaving me frozen on the bench.
For once, breaking Amy's no-stalking rule felt like the right call.
Blake talked to me. He saw me. And now… we were going to walk home together.
God help me. I might actually be in love.
It was only a matter of time before they wrapped up practice. The sun was already casting long shadows across the field, and Blake must've noticed because he didn't even bother hitting the showers—just picked up his stuff, slung his towel over his neck again, and started walking beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He said he'd shower when he got home.
Said it'd be dumb to keep me waiting after all.
And just like that, I was melting again.
Blake wasn't the heartless jerk Amy made him out to be. Not even close.
The first few minutes of the walk?
Painfully awkward. Like, my-brain's-dead-and-I-forgot-what-words-are kind of awkward.
We just walked side by side in silence, the occasional crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound. I kept trying to think of something clever or charming or… y'know, cool to say. But of course, nothing.
Then I saw it.
A bracelet. Dangling a little as his arm swung. A charm bracelet.
I froze.
No freaking way.
"Is that a charm bracelet?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Blake looked down at it like he'd almost forgotten it was there. "Oh, yeah," he said casually. "I've always had it. I wear it a lot, especially when I have a game. Kinda like a good luck charm or whatever."
My heart did a full somersault.
There it was. The same little bracelet I made for him back when we were kids. It still had the letter "L" on it. The tiny, slightly off-center L bead.
"Looks cute," I said, managing to keep my voice calm. "Where'd you get it from?"
Blake scratched his head. "To be honest? I don't remember." Then he looked at me, squinting a little. "Why do you care? Want one? Too bad—I don't know how to make them."
I laughed, and it wasn't awkward or nervous or fake. It felt easy.
For the first time in forever, it felt like I had my friend back.
He did even remember where he got it from
And somehow, somehow, it still mattered to him.
We passed an ice cream stand, and suddenly my inner ten-year-old took over.
"You up for some ice cream?" I asked, nudging him. "Vanilla. Extra sprinkles. Double scoop?"
Blake blinked. "How'd you—wait. How did you know I liked—"
I cut him off, grinning. "Everyone loves sprinkles, Blake. It's not rocket science."
He laughed. "Clearly, you haven't met Jessica."
We grabbed ice cream—yes, vanilla with extra sprinkles for him—and kept walking. And talking. And for the first time, it didn't feel like I had to fight for every second of his attention.
The conversation flowed. Naturally. Like water down a stream.
It kinda felt like a date.
Not that it was. Not that I'd ever say that.
But… it felt like one.
We eventually got to my house, and Blake slowed to a stop, taking in the place.
"So this is where you live, huh? Just a few blocks away and I never noticed."
I shrugged, licking my cone. "To be fair, I only moved in a couple months ago. So I wasn't always lurking around your neighborhood like some kinda ice cream stalker."
Blake chuckled. "Ah, that makes sense. Well, I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Later," I said.
He turned and started walking away, and before I could think, I called out—
"Blake!"
He stopped and looked back.
Crap. I hadn't planned this. What was I even doing? What was I supposed to say?
I fumbled. "Uh… thanks. For today. I had fun."
Blake gave me that smile again. The warm one.
He nodded.
Then he walked off.
And I just stood there, grinning like an idiot, watching him go.
Amy, if you're reading my mind right now—
Yeah, I broke my promise.
But damn, it was so worth it.