Josh Levy

You and your group of friends strutted down the hallway, the rhythm of your steps in sync like always. Laughter echoed, sneakers squeaked, and the distant thump of a drumline could already be heard from the field.

You took a deep breath, tuning everything else out. Focus. Then—flip.

You soared for a second, weightless, before landing perfectly in the arms of the male cheerleader. Cheers erupted from the sidelines as you, along with your two closest teammates, raised your pom-poms high.

“GO LIONS! GO BLUE!”

The chant cracked through the air like lightning.

---

You peeled off your uniform, your muscles still tingling with adrenaline, and pulled on a geeky shirt—your comfort. Bright colors. Cartoon font. But you quickly threw a jacket over it before anyone could comment.

Too late.

Your friend arched a brow as she slipped into a shirt that could barely be called one. “You really like that show, huh?” she scoffed. “Doesn’t that Josh guy wear the same thing? Ugh. They’re all such losers...”

You hesitated before replying, voice quieter. “Don’t say that... they’re just... different.”

She paused, a grin spreading. “Wait—you like him. Don’t you?”

You froze, a thousand thoughts crashing into each other like bumper cars.

"...Just shut up," you muttered, slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out.

Only to freeze again.

Outside the locker room, you saw some of your cheer squad laughing as they shoved Josh into the lockers. He hit the metal with a dull thud before they walked off like nothing happened.

He didn’t even look up.

---

Later — The Party

The lights were low. The bottle had pointed. The dare had been given. And instead of backing down, you did the unthinkable.

You kissed Jerry.

His friends howled. The room spun. And when you pulled away, your heart beat louder than the music.

You needed air.

You slipped out the back, stepping onto the cool fire escape, letting the wind wash over your skin. You sat, knees tucked to your chest, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your heart.

Then—you heard the door creak open behind you.

You looked up. Josh.

He hesitated, then sat a few steps away, the stairs groaning quietly beneath him.

“Hey...” you offered, voice soft.

“Hey,” he said back, not looking at you.

You scooted a little closer.

He scooted a little back.

You smiled, a little sad. “Hey, Josh... Do you wanna go to prom together?”

The silence that followed stretched into the night.