Newt

The sun bathed the city in a honeyed glow. Leah strolled with her friends, laughed, took photos, and in the evening, tired but happy, she plopped down on her bed and sent Newt her best sunset shot. That same smile that made him "turn over in his stomach." Then she posted the photo on her Stories.

A couple of minutes later the phone vibrated.

Newt: I saw it. I was with the guys at the Garage, and we watched your story. They said you were beautiful and that I was lucky.

His heart skipped a beat. Hearing it from his friends was special.

Leah: Well, what about you? Did you agree?

The answer did not come immediately.

Newt: I said I'm not dating you.

The room went quiet. She reread it several times—no joke, no emoticons.

Leah: Seriously? Just said we're nobody?

The phone vibrated again.

Newt: They told me I was a fuckup. And they were right.

She exhaled, resentment mixed with relief.

Newt: Leah, I don't know what came over me. I was scared they'd start messing around, making fun of me. That I'd ruin everything, because I always ruin everything.