Before the birthday, before the photo, before that soft "yes" — there was just her.
The girl who vanished at the first sign of him.
It started simply. A glance that lingered too long. A name that quietly echoed in the corners of her thoughts. A presence that softened even her hardest days. She didn't know much about him — only enough to feel the quiet pull, like gravity: invisible, certain, inevitable.
There was something about him. Gentle. Unassuming. A kind of calm that made her loud laugh fall quiet, her usually confident steps turn hesitant. He didn't need to say anything. Just being there was enough to unravel her.
She didn't mean to act that way — not really. But somehow, she became clumsy around him, like the universe nudged her heart every time he was near. Her friends started to notice too. There were too many awkward moments to count.
Like the jeep ride with Sir Mike — she could barely breathe the entire time he sat across from her. Or that one time in the elevator when she almost forgot how to function. And those accidental run-ins near the lockers or hallway — the ones where her instinct was to retreat. Run. Hide. She waved once or twice when she thought he wasn't looking. Thankfully, he never waved back. If he had, her knees might have buckled.
Once, her friend told her to stand up — he's coming, she whispered. So she stood. Then panicked. She wasn't even sure if he was looking her way, but she darted off like a deer caught in headlights. She prayed he hadn't seen. Or maybe, in some shy corner of her heart, she hoped he had.
It was ridiculous. And she knew that.
But crushes tend to dissolve even the strongest facades, and hers crumbled in silence — all flustered cheeks and skipped heartbeats.
Despite all the hiding, something about him made her want to try. To be a little braver. A little brighter. To be seen — not for attention, not for affection, but just… because someone like him existed.
She even bought him perfume once. Chose it carefully. Consulted a guy friend to make sure she picked the right one. She didn't leave a name. Just a small note:
"Thank you for making my day every day. I like your eyes, by the way."
She didn't think he'd find out.
But somehow… he did.
And somewhere between the chaos in her chest and the silence of things unsaid, a quiet kind of hope began to bloom.
Not for love.
Not yet.
But for a chance. A friendship. A moment.
Something real.
Something more than just being the girl who vanished when he came near.