Confession time. You ever wake up thinking, Hey today's going to be a totally normal day where I do not embarrass myself and definitely do not get into awkward situations with a childhood friend who has more chaotic energy than a raccoon on espresso? Yeah me too. And we are both wrong.
Let us set the stage. It was a bright sunny day. Which of course meant disaster was just waiting in the shadows like a ninja with commitment issues. Mei and I were supposed to be doing something wholesome like walking home from the convenience store. But the universe heard that and went Oh no sweetie that is too normal.
So there we were. Me carrying a plastic bag with some very healthy snacks cough sugar-coated deep-fried guilt cough and Mei skipping along beside me like the human embodiment of a cartoon intro. Her hair bouncing. Her smile borderline weaponized. Her energy so loud it probably startled a few passing crows into reevaluating their life choices.
Then it happened. The Trip.
Not a metaphorical one like the emotional spiral you go on after binging romance dramas and wondering why nobody has confessed their feelings under a cherry tree. No. I mean a literal foot-meets-sidewalk betrayal.
One second I was upright. The next I was channeling my inner sack of potatoes. Gravity was all like Hey buddy remember me and Mei screamed but instead of saving me with grace she panicked and lunged forward like a sleep-deprived ninja turtle.
Her hand caught my shirt. Her foot caught nothing. And then we both went down.
Now imagine this. I am lying there stunned. Mei lands directly on top of me. Our faces are a breath apart. Her hands are awkwardly pressed against my chest. My hands instinctively caught her waist. We are basically one emotional piano cue away from a romantic scene.
And the worst part. The part that will haunt me through the ages. I blinked. And she blinked. And then
We froze.
Like time said Whoa whoa whoa let us savor this. This is the stuff readers eat up like popcorn. A second passes. Two. Her eyes wide. Her cheeks turning that shade of pink that artists use to say This girl is flustered but will deny everything.
My heart went into overdrive. And I mean full-on panic at the disco mode. Because this was Mei. Chaos goblin extraordinaire. Glue eater. Frog wedding planner. And somehow she was now a girl with a heartbeat I could feel against mine.
Then she punched me.
To be fair it was more like a flustered slap. Like her brain short-circuited and went Must assert dominance. But it still knocked the wind out of me.
"Pervert!" she snapped even though her face was basically a cherry blossom festival.
"You fell on me," I wheezed trying to untangle myself without looking like I was enjoying it. Which I was not. Probably. Maybe. Look I am a teenage boy not a monk.
She scrambled up like a cat that got caught knocking over a vase. Her arms flailing. Her mouth doing that thing where it tried to form words but only produced betrayal-sounds.
"I was just trying to save your stupid face," she said not looking at me.
"You elbowed my stupid face."
"It was an accident!"
"You aimed."
"Shut up!"
And that was our first hug. Romantic right? Readers please hold your applause. And your judgment.
The rest of the walk home was pure awkward sauce. Mei kept walking ahead muttering to herself probably threatening to erase the moment from existence using black-market memory bleach. Meanwhile I was doing my best to look at anything except her. Like the power lines. The sky. That suspicious-looking squirrel. Anything.
But here is the thing. Something shifted in that fall. Something tiny. Like a glitch in the matrix. I kept remembering the way her eyes looked when they met mine. The shock, the softness, and the thousand unspoken things behind them.
I tried brushing it off. It was just one of those weird moments. Like getting caught singing in the shower. Or crying during a documentary about turtles. It did not mean anything, right?
Except it kind of did.
That night I found myself lying in bed staring at the ceiling like it owed me answers. Mei and I had known each other forever. Our friendship was built on pranks, chaos, emotional blackmail, and shared snacks. But now there was something else creeping in. Something confusing. Something terrifying.
Feelings.
Ugh. Gross.
I pulled my blanket over my head trying to suffocate the butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. This was ridiculous. I was not falling for Mei. She was just my friend. My violently expressive, emotionally unpredictable, constantly blushing friend.
I groaned.
Somewhere out there the frog from our childhood wedding probably croaked knowingly.
Cut to the next day. I opened my front door and Mei was standing there holding two drinks and pretending nothing ever happened. Her expression was casual. Suspiciously casual. Like she had spent all night in denial land and came back with souvenirs.
"Here," she said handing me a can of something bubbly. "Peace offering."
"Are we not going to talk about yesterday?" I asked because clearly I enjoy pain.
She sipped her drink with the slow dramatic sass of someone who watched too many melodramas. "Talk about what?"
"The whole falling thing. The hug. The blushing. The minor act of domestic violence."
"No idea what you are talking about," she said looking me dead in the eye like a liar in a courtroom.
I sighed. Of course. This was Mei. Denial was her favorite accessory.
"Well… thanks for the drink," I muttered.
She smiled. That dangerous mischievous smile that usually preceded destruction.
"Anytime. Just do not fall for me again, okay?"
I choked on my soda. She walked off whistling like a girl who definitely did not just weaponize my feelings against me.
And somewhere deep in my foolish little heart something stirred.
Because I think I already had.