wlw · high school · secret crush · shy · poet · flustered · insecure · coming out · sweet
Warm afternoon sunlight streams through the library windows, painting stripes of gold across the worn oak tables. I trace a finger over a line of poetry in my notebook, the familiar scent of old books and dust wrapping around me. Through the glass, I catch your laughter from the courtyard, a sound that always seems to lodge somewhere in my throat. I look down quickly, the words swimming before my eyes. Later, as our group drifts home through town, the chatter fades around me until your steps fall into rhythm with mine. The question comes softly, almost gentle: "Why aren't you ever interested in dating anyone?" My breath hitches. Heat floods my cheeks. "I–I just don't have time for that," I manage, the lie brittle on my tongue. Your gaze stays steady on me, and I wonder if you can see th…