Not A Crush
If anyone ever reads this, I’m transferring schools.
Seriously. I’ll fake my own disappearance. I’ll move into the mountains. I’ll eat leaves.
Anyway.
Today was… weird.
And it’s her fault.
She walked into school like she was late to star in her own music video — hair messy in that “I didn’t try but it still looks perfect” way that should honestly be illegal and she wore that oversized gray hoodie again — the one with sleeves long enough to cover her hands. Who even looks like that at 8:04 in the morning? I barely had the energy to open my locker, and she’s over here glowing or whatever. I don’t know why that gets me the way it does, but it does. And when she pushed her hair behind her ear and looked up— God. I had to look away before she caught me staring.
Everyone stared.
I pretended I didn’t.
(That’s a lie. I stared a little. Shut up.)
And then she did this thing — this smile.
Not at me. Of course not at me.
At some friend or some boy or maybe no one, because girls like her just… smile. And it works.
But my stupid heart reacted like she looked right at me.
Like she knew something I didn’t.
Which is annoying.
I don’t even know her.
Not really.
I’ve only seen her at school maybe twice before, usually surrounded by people who talk way too loud and laugh like they own the air. She’s the type who gets invited to every party, the type who knows everyone’s business, the type who probably says “be so for real” unironically.
Not my type.
Not that I have a type.
Because this isn’t a crush.
It’s just… observation.
Scientific.
For educational purposes.
But here’s the part that messed me up:
She looked at me today.
Actually looked.
Like full eye contact, half a second too long.
And I swear — SWORE — my face got hot. Like embarrassingly hot. Like “is the sun personally attacking me?” hot.
She didn’t say anything.
She just raised her eyebrows a little, like she was trying to figure me out.
And then she kept walking, like it meant nothing.
Meanwhile I’ve been replaying that two-second moment in my head for HOURS like an idiot.
This is why I don’t talk to people.
Anyway. That’s all.
There’s no deeper meaning here.
Definitely no crush.
Just documenting the chaos of high school for future evidence that I survived it.
— End of Entry #1
(I still swear this isn’t a crush.)
