Tate's main goal that day was simple: watch Damien. Every move, every glance, every interaction. She needed to see if he would do the things that website had mentioned—signs that he might like her.
But as she walked through the hallway, a nagging thought crept in.
Was she being delusional? What would someone like Damien possibly like about her?
She wasn't as pretty as the other girls in school. And he was handsome as hell. They wouldn't even look good together.
She should've been thinking about her 15th birthday, which was tomorrow. But instead, here she was—obsessing over Damien.
As she walked down the hall, people smiled and waved at her. She waved back, trying not to look too surprised. She still wasn't used to being recognized by her classmates. It felt foreign. But she couldn't help the small flicker of happiness it gave her.
She stepped into the classroom and scanned for Damien. He wasn't there.
Her heart sank.
Where is this guy when you need him?
"There's my favorite girl," Landon's voice came from behind her.
Tate rolled her eyes as she sat down. "I'm definitely not your favorite girl."
Landon gave her a fake shocked face. "How can you say that?"
"How's your first day as an official class governor?" she asked.
"Feels good. I should be asking you the same thing, my lovely vice."
Tate smiled. "It's not a bad feeling."
"Thank you, Tate," Landon said sincerely. "For agreeing to this. And I meant what I said—I'll handle everything. You won't have to do anything if you don't want to."
Tate smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Landon."
He grinned. "So... what are we doing for your big fifteen?"
Tate blinked. "I didn't know you knew my birthday."
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I know my vice's birthday?"
Tate chuckled.
"So?" he asked. "Any plans? Is there a party?"
"No. I just want a chill birthday," she said. "Not everyone has to know."
She didn't really mind people knowing. But with all the attention the campaign had already brought her, she was trying to manage what little control she had left.
"Okay," Landon said. "Anything you want."
Martha walked over just then and caught the tail end of their conversation. "Tomorrow is your birthday, Tate?"
"Yeah."
"Oh my God, Tate! I had no idea. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Martha. I didn't tell you."
"But I'm your friend. I'm supposed to know," she said, frowning.
Tate sighed inwardly. There was no winning an argument with Martha.
"What are we doing tomorrow?" Martha asked.
"She said she's not doing anything," Landon chimed in.
"What do you mean you're not doing anything?" Martha looked scandalized. "You at least have to post something on social media."
"I don't really want more attention on myself," Tate admitted.
"I know. But not many people have to see it. You can set it to close friends only."
Tate considered it. "Fine."
"Settled!" Martha clapped her hands. "I'm going to take beautiful pictures of you. Just wait and see."
"I didn't sign up for this."
"Well, I did. The day we became friends. That's my birthday gift to you—since I didn't get you an actual one in time."
Tate didn't want her to feel bad, so she smiled. "Okay. I agree."
Martha giggled. "We'll take them during lunch break!"
Moments later, Mr. Matthew walked into the classroom and classes began.
---
At lunch, Martha dragged Tate to the football field to take what she called "sun-kissed pictures." Tate had no idea how to pose.
"Act natural," Martha instructed.
But Tate didn't know how to act natural. She just stood awkwardly while Martha snapped photos from every angle.
Thirty minutes later, they were done. Tate was incredibly relieved.
They still had time before the lunch break ended, so they grabbed food together. But Tate couldn't stop thinking about Damien. Why hadn't he come to school today? His absence ruined her plan to observe him... and yet she found herself more worried than disappointed.
She needed to ask someone about him.
I should've asked Landon earlier, she thought. Maybe she still could—but he was nowhere to be seen.
She turned to Martha instead. She had to be careful not to sound suspicious. They seemed a bit close lately, so maybe she'd know.
"Um, Martha... do you know why Damien's not in school today? I wanted to thank him for everything he did during the campaign, but I haven't seen him."
Martha nodded. "Yeah. He had a family commitment. That's why he didn't come."
Tate felt a small pang of jealousy. How does she know that?
She tried to keep her tone casual. "Oh. I just asked because you guys seem a bit close lately."
Martha shrugged, munching on her food. "I don't think we're that close. We do talk every night online and send each other funny videos, but... I don't think that counts."
Tate raised an eyebrow. Martha doesn't seem to understand what 'close' means.
Martha went on. "He once told me about his ex-girlfriend at his old school. He said they broke up because he had to transfer to Salvador High. I felt bad for him. I can't imagine the heartbreak. He said he's over her though—and they're still friends."
Tate didn't know what to say to that. "Hmm."
"I can let him know you wanted to talk to him," Martha offered.
Tate quickly replied, "Never mind. I'll talk to him when he gets back."
"Okay," Martha said with a shrug.
Just like that, lunch break ended.
---
After school, Tate and Martha sat together to pick the best picture from their earlier photoshoot.
Most of them turned out surprisingly nice, and Tate couldn't believe it—she actually looked good in the pictures. She hadn't realized she had such a bright smile. Martha was 100% right about the sun-kissed lighting; it really did make a difference.
Overwhelmed by gratitude, Tate hugged Martha tightly. "Thank you," she said, and she meant it.
She was truly grateful to have a friend like her. No one in the past had treated her this kindly, this intentionally. And to think—it had all started because she wanted to be close to Martha, to be like her. If she hadn't made that choice, she might have missed out on something real.
On the bus ride home, Tate sent a few of the pictures to her parents.
When she walked through the front door, the smell of spices and something warm and savory greeted her. Her brother was in the kitchen, making her a birthday dinner. Their mom usually made it every year for both of them—always a special meal just before midnight to celebrate their new age. But with their parents abroad this time, it meant the world that her brother had put in the effort to carry on the tradition. She couldn't have been more grateful.
During dinner, their parents video-called to wish her a happy birthday. Because of the time zone difference, they said they didn't want to miss being the first to say it.
Later that night, full and content, Tate lay in bed smiling.
For once, everything felt good. She was genuinely happy.
She decided to post one of the birthday pictures at midnight. Just a quiet post—nothing dramatic.
When the clock struck twelve, she uploaded it with the simple caption:
+1 today
She didn't expect anyone to comment or like it. It was past midnight, and she'd only made the post visible to her close friends anyway.
But as she began drifting off to sleep, the sound of a notification pinged through her phone. She glanced at the screen.
Damien had liked her post.
And he had commented: Happy Birthday, Tate.
Her heart did a little flip.
She had butterflies. Real ones.
There was no denying it anymore—she definitely had a crush on him. A romantic one, to be precise.
But now, more than ever, she needed to know if he felt the same way.
Or if he liked her back—just a little.