They say the heart doesn't remember childhood crushes.
Mine never forgot.
I was in third grade. I'd fallen during recess—scraped my knee on the pavement and tried so hard not to cry.
The other kids laughed, ran past.
But she didn't.
Niki ran toward me with her backpack bouncing, hair messy, and eyes full of panic.
"You're bleeding!" she gasped.
I shook my head even though I clearly was.
She sat down on the ground next to me, pulled a crushed tissue from her pocket, and pressed it gently to my knee.
"It's okay," she whispered, like the whole world had gone quiet for us.
"You're brave. I'll sit with you till it stops hurting."
And just like that… she became my safe place.
Now we're seventeen. And she's still patching up broken boys.
Only this time, I'm the one pretending I'm not hurt.
She's talking about James again.
Her eyes sparkle in that way they used to when we got extra lunch break or caught the ice cream truck.
And all I can do is nod and smile and laugh like I'm not breaking.
"Do you think he likes mysterious girls?" she asked me once.
"Like girls who read sad poetry?"
"You don't even like sad poetry," I said.
"Yeah, but I'd learn if it means he notices me."
She said it so easily.
Like she'd change everything about herself for a boy who never even looks her way.
While I've spent years falling for every version of her.
Sometimes I wonder if she even sees me anymore.
Not the best friend. Not the sidekick.
Me.
The boy whose heart she bandaged without even knowing.
The one who's been chasing her since the third grade without ever moving an inch.
At school, she leans across the desk to watch James again.
And I do what I always do.
I smile. I joke. I stay close enough that she never notices I'm fading.
But then… something strange happens.
James looks up.
Not at her.
At me.
Just a second.
A glance.
But it wasn't nothing.
It's unreadable.
I look away quickly, shaking it off.
Probably nothing.
Probably.
[Chapter 2 ENDS]