Crush Turned Manz

Sam had been informed approximately seventeen times that this was a terrible idea. Unfortunately, all seventeen warnings came from the same group of friends who were responsible for the idea in the first place. Which meant they couldn't be trusted. At all. Yet somehow he'd still ended up here. The local park was bright with afternoon sunlight, children running across nearby fields while dogs barked excitedly in the distance. Today he was too busy trying not to have a nervous breakdown. Because standing a short distance away was you. His childhood best friend. His childhood crush. The person he'd spent years unsuccessfully trying to stop liking.

"Oh no." The words escaped before he could stop them.

Lucas immediately cackled. "Oh yes."

Mia shoved him forward. Actually shoved him. Sam nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Guys!" His face immediately turned red. "Guys, don't—"

Too late. The group scattered like a pack of gremlins escaping responsibility. Several of them were still laughing while retreating. One shouted something suspiciously supportive. Lucas yelled: "GOOD LUCK, LOSER!" Then they were gone.

Sam stood frozen for several seconds. His hands immediately found the back of his neck. A nervous habit. "Well. That was humiliating...For me specifically." A laugh escaped him despite himself. The kind that happened whenever he got nervous enough. Which was often. Especially around you. Sam rubbed the back of his neck again before finally forcing himself to walk closer. His smile appeared naturally after that. "There you are." The words came softer than he'd intended. His expression immediately betrayed how happy he actually was to see you. Not that he'd ever admit it. Not without dying first.

"You look...good." Sam looked mildly embarrassed by his own existence. Then he laughed again. "Not even five minutes in and I'm already forgetting how words work. This is going great." The sarcasm was obvious. His grin remained anyway. After a moment, he glanced in the direction his friends had vanished. Then back toward you. Then immediately away again. Like he couldn't decide where his eyes belonged. "So..." His shoulders lifted slightly. "We don't actually have to call this a date. Seriously." He nodded. "Like, we can just hang out. Totally normal." At this point he looked like he was trying to convince himself. "We've known each other forever...Basically forever. So this is just two friends hanging out." Silence. Then: "...Who accidentally got signed up for a date." Sam immediately looked at the sky. "You know what? Don't answer that."

His face was definitely getting warmer. The problem wasn't that he disliked the idea. The problem was very much the opposite. Which made everything worse. After a moment, he let out a dramatic sigh before dropping onto a nearby bench. "Okay." He patted the empty space beside him. "We're restarting. Hi." His smile returned instantly. Bright enough to rival the sun. "Sup, I'm Sam. Actually, no, that's stupid." He covered his face briefly. "You already know who I am." His shoulders shook with quiet laughter. Somehow managing to embarrass himself had relaxed him a little. A very Sam-like solution. More genuine. "I missed you."

The confession slipped out naturally. Without overthinking. Just honest. The second he realized what he'd said, however, his ears immediately turned red. "Maybe let's walk around before I accidentally say anything else that makes this sound like a date."

Unfortunately for Sam—the hopeful little smile he couldn't quite hide suggested he'd be perfectly happy if it was one.

Sam had spent the entire morning trying not to overthink things. He failed spectacularly. Because apparently it wasn't his friends who had arranged everything. It was you, who had actually bought a day of his time. Which was ridiculous. And sweet. Because Sam had spent years trying not to read too much into every little thing involving you. Now his brain had been handed actual ammunition. He was losing the battle badly. The result was him sitting on your couch pretending to watch a movie while internally fighting for his life. His posture looked relaxed. His thoughts were not.

"You know..." Sam was stretched across one side of the couch, one arm draped over the back cushions while he glanced toward you. "...I still think it's weird. Not bad weird. Good weird." He immediately pointed at you. "Actually, no. That sounded weird too." His face was already turning pink. Fantastic. Wonderful start. Sam groaned dramatically before burying his face in a couch pillow for a few seconds. When he finally resurfaced, his hair was slightly messier than before. "Can we pretend I know how to talk?" He laughed. Unfortunately, the laugh only made him smile more. And smiling at you was part of the problem. Because every time he looked at you, his brain suddenly stopped operating at full capacity. The movie continued playing forgotten in the background. At some point, Sam had ended up sitting slightly closer than he originally intended. Not touching. Just closer.

His knee bumped yours accidentally. Sam immediately froze. "Oh my god." His hands flew to his face. "See?" He pointed dramatically. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. I literally touched your knee. And now my brain sounds like a fire alarm."

His ears were bright red. The worst part? He was laughing about it. Because once Sam got embarrassed enough, his fight-or-flight response usually turned into nervous humor.

"Okay. We're resetting." His hands slapped against his knees. "Normal. We're being normal." Then he looked at you. Immediately smiled. And ruined everything. "...This is impossible." The complaint came with a laugh. A genuinely happy one. For a moment, the nervousness settled. "I really missed this. Just hanging out. Seeing you in person again." His smile lingered. Then, because Sam apparently couldn't survive an emotional moment without sabotaging himself: "You know..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was actually planning something cool. Like, today. Not cool-cool. More... moderately impressive." The confidence vanished immediately. "I don't know why I said that." He covered his face. The embarrassment was becoming terminal. Eventually Sam peeked through his fingers before letting out a defeated laugh.

"You ever have one of those moments where you decide you're finally going to be brave and then immediately remember you're you?" A pause. "Because that's where I'm at right now."

Despite the words, he was smiling. The kind of smile that only appeared around people he trusted completely. After a moment, he scooted a little closer again. This time intentionally. Not enough to make a big deal out of it. Then he rested his head against the back of the couch and looked over at you. "Can I admit something?" A pause. A nervous one. The kind that made him rub the back of his neck again. "I think I've spent so long liking the idea of spending time with you that now that it's actually happening..." He laughed softly. "...I forgot to prepare for the part where I have to act cool. Which is unfortunate."

His grin widened. "Because being cool would've helped a lot right about now."

Movie night had been a mistake. Not because Sam disliked movie nights. The problem was that his friends had somehow weaponized this one. It had started innocently enough. A group outing. Everyone hanging out together. Then somewhere along the way, his friends had decided it would be funny to arrange seating. Specifically—your seating. Which somehow always ended with you next to him. Every. Single. Time. Sam knew exactly what they were doing. The worst part? They weren't even subtle about it. Lucas had literally winked at him. Twice. Sam was still recovering. Now everyone was gathered in his living room, snacks scattered across the coffee table while some action movie played across the television. Nobody was watching it. At least Sam wasn't. His entire focus was occupied by the fact that you were sitting beside him. Close enough that his stupid heart had apparently forgotten how to behave. The couch suddenly felt much smaller than usual.

Across the couch, Lucas looked entirely too amused. Which meant trouble. Sam narrowed his eyes. Lucas grinned. Then Sam noticed it. A hand. A very suspicious hand. Slowly inching across the back of the couch. Toward your side. Sam stared. Lucas stared back. The hand continued. Sam immediately reached behind you. Just casually. Very casually. He adjusted the pillow behind your back. The pillow that had apparently needed adjusting right this second. Lucas' hand stopped. Victory. For approximately three seconds. Then Lucas started again.

"Oh, absolutely not." The words slipped out before Sam could stop them.

Several heads turned. Sam froze.

"...The movie." He pointed randomly. "That guy made a bad decision."

*Nobody believed him. Least of all Lucas. The smug look on his friend's face was unbearable. Sam sank slightly lower into the couch. His ears were already turning red. Meanwhile Lucas looked like he was having the time of his life. Eventually the movie continued and everyone settled again. For about five minutes. Then Sam caught Lucas looking toward you. Again. And suddenly his brain supplied a thought he absolutely did not want.

What if Lucas actually liked you?

The idea hit him like a truck. Violently. Horribly. His stomach dropped. Then he hated the feeling. Because it was ridiculous. Lucas was his friend. You were free to talk to whoever you wanted. Everything was fine. Totally. Sam grabbed a handful of popcorn and aggressively ate it. That fixed nothing. A few moments later he found himself leaning slightly toward you. Not intentionally. Just instinctively. Like his brain had decided proximity would somehow solve emotional distress. It did not. Unfortunately.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice stayed quiet enough not to interrupt the movie. "I'm realizing something important tonight. My friends are terrible people."

Across the couch, Lucas immediately shouted: "I HEARD THAT."

Sam pointed at him. "GOOD."

The room erupted into laughter. Even Sam laughed. Because despite everything, he genuinely loved these idiots. Most of the time. The movie continued. And Sam found himself relaxing. Then Lucas moved slightly closer toward your side again, a final time. Sam immediately reached behind you and adjusted the pillow a second time. Lucas started laughing so hard he nearly fell off the couch. Sam covered his face.

"Oh my god." His voice was muffled. "I hate all of you."

"No you don't."

"You're right...But I need everyone to stop noticing things."

That only made his friends laugh harder. And somehow, despite the embarrassment, despite the teasing, despite Lucas being an absolute menace—Sam couldn't stop smiling. Because you were here. His friends were here. And for all the chaos they caused...This was exactly the kind of night he'd secretly hoped for.

Sam considered himself a reasonably competent cook. Not a culinary genius. But competent. Which was why he felt personally betrayed when a piece of chopped bell pepper escaped the cutting board and launched itself onto the floor.

"Traitor." The accusation was immediate. Sam pointed dramatically at the vegetable. "You had one job. One."

The bell pepper offered no defense. Naturally. With a sigh, he bent down to retrieve it before tossing it into the trash and returning to the counter. The kitchen smelled faintly of garlic, vegetables, and whatever playlist was currently playing softly from a speaker nearby. Sunlight spilled through the windows while lunch slowly came together piece by piece. Honestly? Sam was having a great day. A suspiciously great day. Which was probably why the universe immediately decided to test him. His phone buzzed somewhere on the counter. Once. Then again. Then a third time. Sam ignored it. Completely. He was busy. Definitely not smiling every five minutes because you were standing beside him. That would be ridiculous. Eventually he reached for a bowl while continuing his current mission of not embarrassing himself. Which was when he noticed you glancing toward his phone.

"Oh?" He followed your gaze. Then looked at the screen. Then froze. The silence lasted approximately three seconds. "...Oh. Oh no."

The notification sat there in all its horrible glory.

Rent-A-Manz Booking Confirmed.

A full-day booking. Apparently from someone old enough to be his mother. Maybe older. Sam stared. The phone stared back. Then he immediately grabbed it.

"Nope."

Tap. Face down on the counter. Problem solved. Probably.

"You didn't see anything." The statement came entirely too fast. His ears were already turning pink. A terrible sign. Sam pointed at the phone. "That's not important. Actually it's the least important thing in this kitchen. Arguably the least important thing in the house."

The phone buzzed again. Sam looked at it. Then looked away dramatically.

"No." He sounded offended. The phone had personally wronged him somehow. A laugh escaped him before he rubbed the back of his neck. The smile on his face softened slightly afterward. Less embarrassed. "I actually forgot I still had the app installed. Which is probably a good sign." He glanced toward the phone one last time before shaking his head. Then, without much hesitation, he picked it up again. A few taps. Done.

"Okay." He held up the screen briefly. "Deleted."

Just like that. No second thoughts. Then he tossed the phone onto the couch in the next room. Far away. Where it couldn't interrupt him anymore.

"There." His grin returned. A little shy around the edges. "Much better."

The kitchen suddenly felt quieter afterward. Because Sam seemed oddly relieved. Like something had been settled. He returned to chopping vegetables before eventually speaking again. Softer this time.

"You know...I used to think getting hired was exciting. Attention."

Chop.

"Meeting new people. Making somebody's day a little better." His shoulders lifted slightly. "It was nice." For a moment, he seemed thoughtful. Then he glanced sideways. And smiled. The kind of smile that always looked a little brighter when directed at you. "But honestly? I don't really care about that anymore." His face immediately started turning red again. Because apparently he couldn't say anything sincere without embarrassing himself. Fantastic. "I mean—"

He pointed with the knife. Immediately realized he was holding a knife. Then pointed with his elbow instead. Safer.

"What I'm trying to say is..." A deep breath. "I already have somebody I actually want spending time with me." Then immediately he covered part of his face with one hand. "That sounded way smoother in my head." His laughter filled the kitchen. Warm. A little flustered. After a moment he lowered his hand again and looked over with a sheepish grin. "For the record? I'd choose lunch with you over a hundred bookings. Okay maybe ninety-nine."

He ducked away before anything could be thrown at him.

"I'm kidding!"

A beat.

"One hundred and one."

And despite the joke, the look on his face made it painfully obvious he meant every word.