The second-to-last day of senior year feels like a storm waiting to break. The halls of North Ridge High hum with chaotic energy: laughter bouncing off lockers, the clatter of backpacks hitting the floor, and the shrill buzz of people yelling over one another to make summer plans.
Sam isn’t paying much attention to any of it. Her hazel eyes skim the half-finished worksheet in her hands, doodles creeping along the edges of the page before she folds it and shoves it into her bag. The zipper catches, snagging stubbornly. She mutters under her breath, jerking it loose, and slings the bag over one shoulder. A strand of blonde hair slips free from behind her ear, brushing her cheek as she starts down the hallway toward her next class.
She’s used to being invisible in this building. Not in a sad way, just a quiet one. Sam has her small world: track team, tight circle of friends, and enough distractions to coast through her senior year without any big dramas. It’s safe. Comfortable.
And definitely far removed from people like Jess.
Jessica Riley.
The thought of her name alone feels too bold like Sam shouldn’t even be thinking it. Jess is the kind of girl who owns every room she walks into. People don’t just notice her… they watch her, track her movements like she’s some golden, shimmering comet. Cheer captain, flawless blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a sharp, confident laugh that carries just a little louder than everyone else’s. Jess lives in a world of Friday night games, big parties, and an endless stream of people desperate for her attention.
Sam lives in none of those things.
Sure, they’ve shared a few classes over the years, but they’ve barely spoken. Jess has probably borrowed a pencil once or twice or smiled in passing, but that’s it. Jess' world is polished and loud; Sam’s is quieter, built on steady friendships with Hannah and Ashley, evenings spent running laps, and the occasional sketchbook.
That’s why, when the lunch bell rings and Sam makes her way to the usual table at the back of the cafeteria, she’s not even thinking about the school’s annual confession tradition. It’s one of those weird, over-the-top rituals that’s been around forever, encouraging seniors to confess their secret crushes before graduation. It’s supposed to be fun and dramatic, but Sam’s always thought it’s a recipe for disaster.
She slides her tray onto the table and plops down between Ashley and Hannah. Ash has a bag of pretzels in one hand and her phone in the other, scrolling through memes she shows to Hannah, who barely glances up from her textbook.
“Can’t believe you’re eating that,” Sam says, nodding to Ash’s pretzels. “It’s basically salt wrapped in cardboard.”
Ash smirks, popping one in her mouth. “Cardboard tastes pretty good, then.”
“Better than cafeteria pizza,” Hannah murmurs without looking up.
Sam snorts, shaking her head as she takes a bite of her sandwich. The three of them fall into their usual rhythm of conversation: easy, warm, peppered with sarcasm. Until the room starts to quiet. The shift is subtle at first, like someone dimmed the volume knob on the entire room. Sam glances up, frowning as a murmur ripples through the crowd.
“What’s going on?” she asks, looking between Ash and Hannah.
Ash raises an eyebrow, craning her neck to peer over the heads of the students in front of them. “Looks like Jess is… oh. Oh, she’s standing on a table.”
Sam blinks. “What?”
“Cheerleader stuff, maybe?” Hannah guesses, her voice skeptical.
But even Hannah sounds unsure. Sam turns. Sure enough, Jess is standing on one of the lunch tables in the middle of the cafeteria. She looks… radiant—like she knows every pair of eyes in the room is on her, and she loves it. Her uniform skirt sways as she turns, scanning the room like she’s searching for something… or someone.
“What’s she doing?” Sam whispers.
Ash leans closer. “Whatever it is, it’s gonna be a show.”
Jess claps her hands together, and the room falls completely silent.
“Okay,” Jess starts, her voice carrying easily over the quiet. It’s clear, confident, and almost teasing, like she’s performing for the crowd. “So, uh, it’s tradition… right? And I thought, why not? Might as well end senior year with a bang.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at this, momentarily thrown at the fact that Jess would participate in the stupid tell-your-crush tradition, but then she remembers who Jess is. Of course, she would, she thinks.
Then, Jess' gaze sweeps the room again. And she looks right at her. At Sam.
“Sam,” Jess says, her tone softening, but her smile stays.
Sam freezes.
No.
This has to be a joke.
“I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year,” Jess says, her voice firm but surprisingly steady, like she’s practiced this a billion times in front of her mirror.
The cafeteria erupts. Gasps, laughter, whistles, someone in the back even yells, “Get it, Sam!” It’s overwhelming, too loud, and Sam wants to melt into her seat and disappear. But Jess isn’t done.
“You probably don’t remember,” Jess says, her blue eyes locked on Sam, her smile bright and genuine. “But on the first day of school, you helped me find where my first period was when I got totally lost. You were so nice. You made me feel like… I don’t know. Like I wasn’t invisible.”
Sam’s heart pounds so hard she feels it in her throat.
“And I’ve been too much of a chicken to tell you all these years. I regret it. A lot. Things might’ve been different if I hadn’t spent most of my high school years pretending to be something I’m not,” Jess says, a slight, almost bitter, laugh escaping, “but now it’s senior year, and we’re almost out of time, so…” She gestures grandly toward Sam, like she’s handing the moment over to her. “There it is.”
The room erupts into cheers, louder than before, and Jess jumps off the table with the grace of someone who knows exactly how good they look. She strides through the cafeteria, heading straight for Sam.
“Sam,” Ash whispers, grabbing her arm. “Are you good?”
Sam doesn’t answer. She can’t. Jess is standing in front of her now, close enough that Sam can see the faint sparkle of gloss on her lips.
Jess smiles, soft and easy. “You don’t have to say anything,” she says quietly, so only Sam can hear. “I just wanted you to know.”
She reaches out, brushing a loose strand of Sam’s hair behind her ear. The touch is fleeting, but it sends Sam’s thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. Then Jess turns and walks away, her ponytail swishing behind her. Ash and Hannah stare at Sam, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
“Well,” Ash finally says, breaking the silence, “that just happened.”
Hannah nudges Sam. “Are you okay? Like, actually?”
Sam doesn’t answer. She’s still staring at the spot where Jess stood, the memory of her voice, her smile, still playing on a loop in her head.
Jess.
The most popular girl in school.
The girl Sam thought she’d never have a reason to speak to.
And she just confessed to having a crush on her.
The first five minutes of chemistry feel like they’re happening underwater.
Sam sits at her usual table near the back, her notebook open but blank, her pen idle in her hand. She’s staring at the periodic table projected onto the screen at the front of the room, but none of the information sticks. It’s like her brain is refusing to process anything except that just happened.
Jess' voice lingers in her head, clear and self-assured. I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.
The room buzzes softly as students settle into their seats, but it feels muted to Sam, far-off. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, hyper-aware of everything. Her track jacket feels too warm under the fluorescent lights, and her skin tingles like she’s being watched. She catches herself glancing toward the door, half expecting Jess to walk through it even though Jess isn’t in this class.
“Earth to Sam,” Ashley whispers, poking her arm with the edge of a pencil. She’s leaning over from her table, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Sam jolts, blinking hard. “What?”
Ash grins. “You’ve been sitting there like a mannequin since the bell rang. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sam mutters, ducking her head. She scribbles a few random words into her notebook to look busy. “Just… thinking.”
Ash doesn’t say anything for a moment, but Sam can feel her watching her, amused. “You mean thinking about her.”
Sam groans softly, pressing her palm to her forehead. “Can you not?”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Ash teases, her voice low enough that only Sam can hear. “That was the Jess. Standing on a table, shouting your name. I mean, how do you even process that?”
“I’m not,” Sam mutters, refusing to meet Ash’s eyes.
Ash’s laughter is light, but she lets it drop, returning to her work. Still, Sam can’t focus. Her pen taps against the edge of her notebook as her mind spirals, trying to make sense of what Jess said in the cafeteria.
The rest of chemistry blurs by, the teacher’s instructions going in one ear and out the other. When the bell rings, Sam gathers her things quickly, desperate to shake the awkward haze clinging to her.
Her next class is English, and she slides into her seat by the window just as the room fills up. The air is thick with the energy of seniors who’ve mentally checked out. Backpacks are stuffed with yearbooks instead of textbooks, and most conversations revolve around the confession tradition: who said what, who got turned down, and who shocked everyone.
Sam stares out the window, tuning it all out even when she catches Jess’ name being thrown around. The faint breeze carries the smell of freshly cut grass, Sam could just imagine it, and she watches the shadows of tree branches sway across the pavement.
It’s calming, for a moment.
Until she feels it again.
That prickling sensation at the back of her neck.
She shifts in her seat, glancing over her shoulder, and her breath catches. Jess is sitting near the back of the room, three rows over. Her chin rests in her palm, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder, and she’s looking directly at Sam. It’s not a casual glance, not the kind of absent-minded look you give when your mind wanders. Jess is watching her, her blue eyes steady and unflinching.
Sam’s heart skips, her skin warming under the weight of Jess' gaze. For a second, she’s too stunned to do anything but stare back. Then Jess tilts her head, the corner of her mouth lifting in the faintest hint of a smile. Sam turns back around so fast she almost knocks her notebook off the desk. She ducks her head, pretending to scribble something in the margin, but her hand is trembling, and her face feels like it’s on fire.
What the hell was that?
She’s hyper-aware for the rest of class, every nerve buzzing. She tries not to look back at Jess, but the memory of her smile is burned into her mind. She can’t help wondering if Jess is still looking, if those blue eyes are still fixed on her.
Has she always been like this? Watching Sam from a distance? Or is this some new thing, Jess suddenly emboldened by the confession? Sam doesn’t know. She’s not sure if she wants to know.
When the bell finally rings, Sam bolts out of the room, gripping the straps of her backpack like they’re a lifeline. Her sneakers squeak against the linoleum as she weaves through the crowded hallway, her pulse still racing.
“Sam!”
The voice is unmistakable, cutting through the noise like a beam of sunlight.
She hesitates, glancing over her shoulder. Jess is there, standing near the English classroom door. She’s looking directly at Sam, her expression calm but unmistakably focused. Sam swallows hard, panic fluttering in her chest. For a split second, she considers pretending she didn’t hear, disappearing into the tide of students but then, Jess raises a hand, waving her over with an easy, almost casual motion.
“Hey, wait up,” Jess calls, her tone light but insistent.
Sam’s feet betray her, slowing until she’s standing just a few feet away. Jess closes the distance between them, her smile soft and unhurried.
“Hi,” Jess says, like they’ve been doing this for years.
Sam’s mouth is dry. She shifts awkwardly, her backpack slipping slightly down her shoulder. “Uh, hey.”
Jess studies her for a moment, her gaze warm but unreadable. “I didn’t freak you out earlier, did I?”
Sam blinks. “What?”
Jess chuckles, the sound low and genuine. “The confession thing. I figured it was better to just rip the Band-Aid off, you know? But if it was too much, I—”
“No, it’s fine,” Sam cuts in, too fast, her voice higher than she means it to be. She clears her throat, trying to sound normal. “I mean, it was… unexpected. But not bad. Just… yeah.”
Jess' smile widens, and there’s something about the way she’s looking at Sam, something patient, curious, that makes Sam feel like she’s standing under a spotlight.
“I’ll take unexpected,” Jess says, her tone playful but sincere. “It’s better than ignored.”
Sam doesn’t know how to respond to that. She just nods, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. This was so weird. Not only was she casually talking to Jess, but she now knows about Jess’ feelings. It feels surreal. How could all of this just flown under the radar?
Jess has a reputation of taking what she wants. That’s how she got her popularity, how she became cheer captain. So it really boggles Sam’s mind to think about how Jess has had feelings for her since the first day of freaking high school, and never said anything. Almost four whole years of Jess holding it all back. It feels unbelievable.
Jess, seemingly accepting that Sam doesn’t know what to say to her, steps back, still smiling, and says, “See you around, Sam.”
And then she’s gone, melting into the crowd of students like nothing happened.
Sam stands there for a long moment, staring after her. Her high school experience, steady and predictable for so long, feels like it’s been flipped upside down in a single afternoon. Jess is everywhere now… in her head, in her classes, and, apparently, in her line of sight. And Sam has no idea what to do about it.
The last period of the day feels heavier than the rest, the air buzzing with that restless, end-of-year energy that makes everyone too antsy to focus. The classroom is warmer than it should be, sunlight streaming through the blinds and settling in golden stripes across the desks. The hum of chatter lingers, even as the teacher half-heartedly tries to wrestle everyone into silence. Sam leans back in her seat, her textbook open but untouched, her pen spinning idly between her fingers.
Ash sits beside her, slouched low in her chair, one sneakered foot tapping against the leg of the desk. She doesn’t bother pretending to pay attention, doodling lazily in the margins of her notebook. Sam glances at her, half-wishing she could slip into that same carefree bubble, but her mind is a tangled mess.
It’s been hours since Jess stood on that lunch table, hours since she turned Sam’s world upside down. And yet, Jess' voice still echoes in her head: “I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.”
Sam shakes the thought away, biting the inside of her cheek as she flips a page in her book, pretending to read. But it’s pointless. Her brain doesn’t cooperate, flipping back to the memory of Jess' eyes locked on hers, that small, almost secret smile Jess had given her in English class.
It doesn’t help that Jess is here now, too.
She’s sitting on the other side of the room, two rows up, her blonde ponytail catching the light every time she shifts. Sam tells herself not to look, not to make this worse, but her gaze keeps slipping over, like a magnet pulled by Jess' presence. Jess is talking quietly to the girl next to her, leaning in with that effortless confidence she seems to carry everywhere.
Sam catches herself staring and forces her attention back to her desk, gripping her pen a little tighter.
“Wow, subtle,” Ash mutters out of the corner of her mouth, her smirk just barely visible as she taps the edge of her notebook with her pencil.
Sam glares at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ash snorts softly, not even bothering to hide her amusement. “Sure you don’t.”
Before Sam can retort, there’s a slight rustling sound, just faint enough to make her pause. She glances up and realizes Jess is looking her way. The rest of the classroom blurs for a moment, everything narrowing to that single point of focus… blue eyes meeting hazel.
Then Jess turns back to her desk like nothing happened, her hand moving quickly. A folded piece of paper appears in her fingers. Sam watches, confused, as Jess folds it neatly again, her movements casual but deliberate.
And then, with a flick of her wrist, Jess tosses it backward.
The note lands on Sam’s desk, sliding across the surface to stop just beside her hand.
Her heart stops for a beat.
Ash, of course, notices immediately. “What’s that?” she whispers, craning her neck to look.
Sam shoots her a warning glance. “Nothing. Don’t—”
But Ash is already leaning over, unabashedly nosy. “Is it from her? Oh my God, it is.”
“Stop,” Sam hisses, grabbing for the note, but Ash is faster. She snatches it off the desk, unfolding it with one fluid motion.
Sam feels heat rise to her cheeks as she watches Ash’s eyes scan the page. Her best friend’s smirk grows wider by the second, the corners of her mouth quirking up in barely-contained glee.
“What does it say?” Sam demands, trying to grab the note back, but Ash holds it out of reach.
Ash doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans in, lowering her voice. “She’s inviting you to the end-of-the-year party. Jess is inviting you.”
Sam freezes. “What?”
Ash grins, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she taps the bottom of the note with her finger. “Look, there’s even a little checkbox. Yes or no. Classic middle school move. Adorable, honestly.”
Sam snatches the note out of her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she reads it for herself. The words are short, written in neat, looping handwriting:
Hey. Come to the party tonight?
Two options are drawn underneath: a box for yes, a box for no.
Sam stares at it, her heart thudding so hard it’s almost deafening. The words feel surreal, like they’re part of some elaborate prank. Jess, the most popular girl in school, wants her… her… at the party? Well, of course, she does… she allegedly has a crush on Sam, which Sam still has a hard time wrapping her head around.
Before she can even begin to process it, Ash leans over, plucking the pen from Sam’s fingers.
“Ash, no—”
Too late.
Ash grins wickedly as she checks yes with an exaggerated flourish and tosses the note back across the aisle, right onto Jess' desk.
Sam’s stomach drops. “Why would you do that? And also… good aim?”
“Because you were going to overthink it and chicken out,” Ash says, shrugging as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. “I just saved you from yourself… and thanks, I know. I really should have tried out for the softball team, huh?”
Sam stares at her, horrified. “I wasn’t going to—”
“Yes, you were,” Ash interrupts, cutting her off with an eye roll. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Before Sam can argue further, she notices movement out of the corner of her eye. Jess picks up the note, unfolding it casually like she isn’t surrounded by twenty other students. Her face is calm at first, unreadable, but then Sam catches it—the faintest curve of Jess' lips, that same small, secret smile from earlier. Jess doesn’t look back at Sam immediately, taking her time refolding the note and tucking it into her textbook. But when she finally does glance over her shoulder, it’s deliberate, her gaze locking with Sam’s for just a second.
The smile lingers.
Sam’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. She slouches low in her seat, crossing her arms and glaring at Ash, who is watching the entire thing unfold with the satisfaction of someone who just orchestrated her friend’s impending doom.
“You’re going,” Ash says matter-of-factly, leaning back in her chair like it’s already decided.
Sam groans, dropping her head onto her desk. “This is the worst day of my life.”
“Yeah, sure,” Ash says, smirking. “Worst day ever. Definitely.”
Sam doesn’t respond, her face buried in her arms. But as the period drags on, her mind keeps drifting back to that smile, and the fluttering, almost terrifying realization that she might actually be going.
The engine hums softly as Hannah’s car glides through the suburban streets, the late afternoon sunlight spilling over the dashboard. Sam sits in the passenger seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring resolutely out the window as the world blurs by. Ash is sprawled across the backseat, one leg propped up on the middle console, her sneakers dangerously close to Sam’s elbow.
For the last ten minutes, Ash hasn’t stopped talking.
“You know what this means, right?” Ash leans forward, her chin resting on the back of Sam’s seat, her grin practically splitting her face. “Jess doesn’t just have a little crush. No, this girl is serious. She didn’t just throw that note on your desk for kicks, Sam. She wants you there. Like, actively wants you there. At her party. Do you know how rare that is?”
Sam groans, sinking lower in her seat. “Can we not do this right now?”
“Oh no,” Ash says, undeterred. “We’re doing this. You can’t just sit there and pretend that didn’t happen.” She jabs a finger at Sam’s shoulder. “You have been personally invited to the most exclusive party of the year by the hottest girl in school. This is history in the making.”
From the driver’s seat, Hannah snorts softly. “She’s not wrong.”
Sam whips her head around, glaring. “Not you too.”
Hannah shrugs, keeping her eyes on the road but grinning slightly. “What? It’s kind of a big deal, Sam. Jess doesn’t just ask anyone to her parties.”
“I wasn’t planning on going,” Sam mutters, crossing her arms tighter.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Ash says, laughing. “That’s why I had to step in and save your ass. You would’ve stared at that note until the end of class and then chickened out.”
Sam shoots her a look. “Maybe I didn’t want to go. Have you ever thought of that?”
“Nope,” Ash says brightly, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head. “Because you do. Or at least, you should.”
“She has a point,” Hannah chimes in again, her tone casual but firm. “You can’t skip it, Sam. Not after she went out of her way to invite you.”
“Exactly!” Ash says, pointing at Hannah like she’s just won an argument. “Thank you. It’s not like Jess is sending out mass texts to everyone in school. She picked you. That’s gotta mean something.”
Sam sighs, rubbing her temple. Her friends’ voices blur together in her head, and all she can think about is that stupid note, the neat handwriting, the way Jess had smiled when she saw Ash’s checkmark. It’s like the entire day has been leading up to this… this moment where her life stopped being predictable and safe and turned into… whatever this is.
“She probably just felt bad for me or something,” Sam mutters, her voice barely audible.
Hannah laughs under her breath. “Yeah, sure. Because Jess is totally the type to publicly confess to someone out of pity. That makes sense.”
Ash gasps dramatically. “Oh my God, Sam, do you hearyourself? She stood on a table for you. Do you know how much confidence it takes to pull that off? And then she threw a note at you in class like it was some kind of rom-com moment. That’s not pity. That’s effort.”
Sam feels her face heat up, and she looks away, staring out the window again. “I don’t even know her,” she says quietly.
“Not yet,” Ash says, wiggling her eyebrows.
Sam groans, burying her face in her hands. “Why am I friends with you two?”
“Because we’re amazing,” Ash says without missing a beat. “And also because we’re right. Look, this is your shot. You’re always saying how high school’s been boring and predictable. Well, guess what? It’s not boring anymore. You’ve got a cheerleader with a crush and an invite to the hottest party of the year. This is your movie moment, Sam. Don’t waste it.”
Sam lifts her head just enough to glare at her. “It’s not a movie moment. It’s a disaster.”
“Could be both,” Hannah says, laughing softly.
Sam groans again, slumping against the door. Her friends keep talking, their voices a mix of teasing and encouragement, but she stops responding. The truth is, she doesn’t know what to think. The idea of going to Jess' party feels impossible, like stepping into a completely different universe.
And yet, there’s a part of her, a small, quiet part, that can’t stop wondering what would happen if she did.
The bass thumps through the walls before they even make it up the driveway. The low beat vibrates in Sam’s chest, an unrelenting pulse that feels like it’s pulling her toward the house against her will. The porch lights are on, but the yard is already packed with people spilling out onto the lawn, laughing, shouting, and clutching red plastic cups like badges of honor.
Sam swallows hard as she steps out of Hannah’s car, adjusting her jacket and feeling utterly out of place. The summer evening air is warm and sticky, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass and beer. Sam feels out of place, not just because she’s standing outside of a damn party, but because Jess’ house is huge, and her lawn is perfectly maintained… the smell of freshly cut grass is proof of that. She tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt, wishing she could melt into it.
“Wow,” Ash says, hopping out of the backseat and surveying the scene with an approving nod. “Jess really knows how to throw a party.”
Hannah slams her door shut, glancing at Sam. “You good?”
“Nope,” Sam mutters, stuffing her hands into her pockets.
Ash grins, tossing an arm over Sam’s shoulders as they start toward the house. “You’ll be fine. Stick with us, and we’ll make sure you survive. Maybe even have fun.”
Sam snorts, but it comes out weak. Fun isn’t exactly what she’s expecting. Her idea of a good time involves quiet nights at home, maybe a movie or a long run to clear her head—not whatever chaos is happening inside Jess' house right now.
They weave through the crowd on the lawn, Ash leading the way with her usual unshakable confidence. Hannah sticks close behind, and Sam feels herself shrinking further with every step. The front door swings open as someone stumbles out, laughter and music pouring into the night.
“Here we go,” Ash says, pushing inside and holding the door open for the other two.
Sam steps in hesitantly, immediately overwhelmed by the noise and heat. The living room is packed wall to wall with people, the furniture pushed aside to make room for dancing and socializing. Colored lights flash from somewhere in the corner, casting the crowd in shifting hues of red and blue.
The smell hits her next. Beer, sweat, and something vaguely fruity that she suspects is spiked punch.
“This is a nightmare,” Sam mutters under her breath.
Ash looks back at her, smirking. “Relax, rookie. It’s just a party.”
Sam rolls her eyes but sticks close as they make their way deeper into the house. Hannah is quiet, her gaze flicking around the room, but Ash seems completely at ease, grabbing a cup from a passing tray and taking a sip without hesitation. Sam, on the other hand, feels like she’s walking on a tightrope. People bump into her, laugh too loudly, and shout over the music, and she wonders for the hundredth time why she let Ash talk her into this.
“Okay,” Ash says, turning to face her. “What’s the game plan? Do we mingle, or do we—”
“Ash,” Hannah interrupts, nudging her and nodding toward the far side of the room.
Sam follows her gaze, and her stomach flips.
Jess is here. Of course, she’s here… it’s her party, but seeing her now, in the middle of this chaos, feels like a punch to the gut.
She’s leaning against the kitchen island, a red cup in her hand, surrounded by a group of people who are all laughing at something she’s just said. Her cheeks are flushed, glowing pink against her smooth skin, and her lips are glossy, catching the light every time she smiles. Her blonde hair is loose now, falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and her blue eyes seem brighter than usual, their sparkle amplified by whatever she’s been drinking.
It’s obvious she’s already a little drunk. There’s a looseness in her posture, a sway to her movements, but it doesn’t make her any less stunning. If anything, it makes her more intimidating. Like she’s glowing from the inside out, untouchable.
Sam swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She tears her gaze away, pretending to study the scratched wood floor.
“Oh, she saw you,” Ash says, her voice dripping with glee.
“What?” Sam’s head snaps up, her heart lurching.
“She saw you,” Ash repeats, grinning wickedly. “And she’s coming over.”
Sam’s pulse spikes, her thoughts scrambling for an escape plan, but it’s too late.
“Sam!” Jess' voice rings out, clear and bright over the music.
Sam turns slowly, her stomach twisting into knots. Jess is weaving through the crowd, her steps a little uneven but purposeful. Her cup is still in hand, and her cheeks are glowing even brighter now that she’s moving. When she reaches Sam, her smile stretches wide, disarming and completely unaffected.
“You made it,” Jess says, her voice soft but laced with something that feels like triumph.
“Uh, yeah,” Sam manages, shifting awkwardly on her feet. “Thanks for, uh… inviting me.”
Jess leans closer, her blue eyes locking onto Sam’s. There’s a warmth in her gaze, hazy but undeniably focused. “Of course. I wanted you here.”
Sam’s breath catches. Jess' proximity is intoxicating, and she can’t help but notice every detail. The faint shimmer of glitter on her cheeks, the way her lips glisten as she takes a sip from her cup, and the slight slur in her words that somehow makes her even more endearing.
Jess tilts her head, studying Sam with an amused smile. “You look nervous.”
“I’m not—” Sam tries to say, but is immediately interrupted by Ash, who is smirking behind her.
“She’s nervous.”
Sam whirls around, glaring. “Can you not?”
Hannah steps in before Ash can escalate, pulling her back by the arm. “We’ll be over there,” she says to Sam, shooting her a reassuring look before dragging Ash away.
Sam turns back to Jess, her heart pounding. Jess takes another sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving Sam’s. When she lowers the cup, her smile softens, her voice dipping. “I’m glad you’re here.”
And just like that, the noise and chaos of the party fade into the background, leaving Sam rooted in place, her thoughts spinning out of control. Jess' pink cheeks, her glossy lips, the way her words wrap around Sam like they’re meant just for her. It’s all too much, too bright, and Sam can’t help thinking: What have I gotten myself into?
She shifts uncomfortably, hyper-aware of Jess' proximity. Jess is leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter now, her cup cradled lazily in one hand, her body angled slightly toward Sam. It’s such a natural stance, like she does this all the time, but Sam feels stiff and out of place in comparison.
“So,” Jess starts, her voice cutting through the noise, smooth and unhurried. “What finally convinced you to come?”
Sam blinks, caught off guard by the question. “Uh… I mean…” She shifts awkwardly, glancing toward the living room where she knows Ash and Hannah are somewhere, probably laughing about this exact moment. “My friends, mostly.”
Jess raises an eyebrow, amused. “They dragged you here?”
“Pretty much.” Sam fidgets with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, glancing down at her sneakers. “I wasn’t exactly planning on, you know… this.”
Jess' laugh is light, easy, and it makes Sam’s stomach twist. “Yeah, you don’t really strike me as a party person.”
Sam looks up at her sharply. “Is it that obvious?”
Jess grins, her eyes sparkling. “A little. But it’s kind of… refreshing, actually.”
“Refreshing?”
“Yeah,” Jess says, leaning in just slightly, her voice dropping as though they’re sharing a secret. “Most people who come to these things are, like, trying way too hard to impress everyone. But you?” Her gaze sweeps over Sam, lingering just long enough to make Sam’s face burn. “You’re just… you. No pretenses. It’s nice.”
Sam has no idea how to respond to that. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her heart racing in her chest. “Well, thanks, I guess,” she mumbles, her voice barely audible over the noise.
Jess doesn’t seem bothered by her awkwardness, though. In fact, she seems to enjoy it, her smile widening as she tilts her head. “Are you always this shy, or is it just because I’m here?”
Sam groans softly, her blush deepening. “Can we not talk about that?”
Jess laughs again, and the sound is warm, genuine. “Okay, fine. We’ll talk about something else.” She leans back a little, her free hand tapping idly against the countertop. “So, what’s the plan after high school? You going anywhere exciting?”
The question is so normal, so straightforward, that it catches Sam off guard. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess. I’m going to Stanford.”
Jess blinks, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Stanford? Seriously?”
Sam tenses, wondering if Jess is about to make some kind of sarcastic comment, but Jess' smile only widens, her expression shifting into something softer. “That’s amazing. I didn’t know you were going there.”
Sam frowns, confused. “Why would you?”
Jess shrugs, her tone casual but deliberate. “Because I’m going there too.”
For a moment, Sam’s brain doesn’t compute the words. She stares at Jess, her mouth slightly open, her thoughts spinning in circles. “Wait, what?”
Jess laughs, the sound bubbling up like she finds Sam’s reaction adorable. “Yeah. Stanford. That’s where I’m going. Crazy, right?”
Sam shakes her head, still trying to wrap her mind around it. “But… you? Stanford?”
Jess raises an eyebrow, her expression amused but not offended. “What, you don’t think I’m smart enough?”
“No! I mean, that’s not what I—” Sam stops herself, flustered, and Jess laughs again.
“I’m kidding,” Jess says, her smile softening. “But yeah, I’ve had it planned for a while. Cheer scholarship, pre-law track. Nothing fancy.”
“Pre-law?” Sam echoes, staring at her. “That’s… kind of fancy.”
Jess shrugs again, taking a sip from her cup. “I guess. My mom’s a lawyer, so it’s kind of the family business. But honestly? I’m just glad I got in.”
Sam is still reeling, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She never expected Jess, Jessica, the cheer captain, the most effortlessly popular girl in school, to end up at the same university as her. The realization feels strange, like the universe is playing some kind of cosmic joke on her.
“What about you?” Jess asks, breaking through her spiral.
Sam blinks. “What about me?”
“What are you studying?”
“Oh. Um… probably biology,” Sam says, her voice hesitant. “I’m thinking about maybe going into environmental science or something.”
Jess' expression brightens. “That’s so cool. Are you, like, super into nature and stuff?”
“Kind of,” Sam says, her voice growing steadier as the conversation shifts into safer territory. “I like hiking. And running. Just… being outside, you know?”
Jess nods, her smile warm. “That makes sense. You’ve always seemed like the outdoorsy type.”
Sam frowns slightly, tilting her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jess laughs again, and it’s soft this time, almost fond. “It means you’re not like everyone else. In a good way.”
Sam’s chest tightens at the words, and she looks away, her gaze dropping to the scratched tile floor. She doesn’t know what to do with the way Jess is looking at her. The way her eyes keep flickering down to her lips, the way her expression seems so open, like she’s letting Sam see more of her than she usually shows the world.
“Hey,” Jess says, her voice pulling Sam’s attention back to her. “For real, though. I think it’s awesome we’re both going to Stanford. I mean, it’s a big school, but… maybe we’ll run into each other.”
Sam doesn’t know how to respond to that. Her stomach twists again, and she feels like she’s standing on a cliff’s edge, staring down into something vast and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
“Yeah,” she says finally, her voice quiet but sincere. “Maybe we will.”
Jess smiles, and the warmth in her gaze makes Sam’s heart skip a beat. The party feels louder now, a thrumming chaos that seems to expand and contract around Sam with every pounding bass drop. The air is heavy with heat and the smell of spilled drinks, but Jess is still standing close to her, warm and steady despite the alcohol glinting in her eyes.
For a moment, neither of them speaks. Jess takes another sip from her cup, her gaze flickering over Sam’s face again, lingering like she’s afraid to look away for too long. Sam shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do. She’s never been in a situation like this before… so close to someone so effortlessly magnetic, someone who seems to carry gravity in the curve of her smile.
Jess breaks the silence first. “You don’t seem like you’re having fun,” she says, her voice quieter now, more sincere than teasing.
Sam frowns slightly. “I’m fine.”
Jess tilts her head, unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve got this look, like you’re trying to figure out how to escape without anyone noticing.”
Sam huffs a quiet laugh, glancing down at her sneakers. “I guess I’m just… not used to this.” She gestures vaguely around the room, the neon lights flashing against the dancing bodies. “Parties. Crowds. Noise.”
Jess studies her for a moment, and something shifts in her expression, a softness, a kind of understanding that catches Sam off guard. “Yeah? They’re not for everyone,” she says. “Honestly? They’re not really for me either.”
Sam looks at her, startled. “What? But this is your party.”
Jess shrugs, the corner of her mouth twitching into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, and I’m drunk enough to make it look like I’m having a blast.” She swirls the liquid in her cup idly, her gaze distant for a moment before returning to Sam. “But, like… the truth? Sometimes I feel like I’m just… performing, you know? Like, I’m supposed to be this person everyone expects me to be. Loud. Confident. Fun.”
Sam’s chest tightens at the words, the honesty in them cutting through the haze of the party. She hadn’t expected this from Jess. This raw, unfiltered glimpse beneath the glossy, picture-perfect exterior. Jess laughs softly, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“It’s kind of stupid, huh? The cheerleader who throws the best parties and doesn’t even like them.”
“It’s not stupid,” Sam says before she can stop herself.
Jess looks at her, surprised, and Sam feels a rush of warmth in her cheeks. She hesitates, fumbling for the right words, and eventually settles on, “I mean… I get it.”
Jess raises an eyebrow, curious. “You do?”
Sam nods, her voice quieter now. “Yeah. I mean, not with, like… parties and stuff. But I get the whole ‘performing’ thing. Feeling like you have to act a certain way because it’s what people expect.” She shrugs, looking away. “It’s exhausting.”
“You know what’s funny?” Jess says after a moment, her voice low and thoughtful. “I don’t feel like I have to perform around you.”
Sam’s breath catches. “What?”
Jess leans back against the counter, her smile faint but genuine. “It’s true. Like, I don’t have to be, you know… thatJess. The one everyone expects.” She gestures vaguely, her fingers brushing the edge of her cup. “You don’t care about all that, do you?”
Sam blinks, caught off guard by the question. “I mean… no. Not really.”
Jess smiles again, and there’s something almost shy about it, something unpolished that makes Sam’s chest ache. “See? That’s why I like you.”
Sam freezes. Her pulse spikes, and for a moment, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. “You don’t even know me,” she blurts, the words tumbling out before she can think them through.
Jess chuckles softly, tilting her head. “Maybe not. Not completely. But I’ve been watching you for years, Sam.” Sam’s eyes widen, and Jess shakes her head quickly, laughing again. “Okay, that sounded way creepier than I meant it to.”
Despite herself, Sam huffs a laugh. “A little.”
Jess grins, her cheeks pink, though whether it’s from the alcohol or something else, Sam can’t tell. “What I meant is… you’re kind of unforgettable. You’re quiet, yeah, but there’s this… steadiness about you. Like you’re totally comfortable with yourself. It’s intimidating.”
Sam stares at her, stunned. “Intimidating?”
Jess nods, her expression growing serious again. “Yeah. You don’t try to impress people. You don’t have to. You just… are. And I think that’s pretty amazing.”
Sam feels like the floor has shifted beneath her, like the world has tilted slightly off its axis. She doesn’t know how to respond, her throat tight and her thoughts spinning in a million directions.
Jess watches her for a moment longer, then smiles softly. “Sorry. I’m probably rambling.”
“No,” Sam says quickly, surprising herself with the firmness in her voice. “You’re not.”
Jess' smile widens, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background. It’s just the two of them, standing in the corner of a chaotic room, the air between them heavy with something Sam doesn’t quite know how to name.
“You’re not what I expected,” Sam says quietly, almost to herself.
Jess raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Good or bad?”
Sam hesitates, then meets her gaze. “Good.”
Jess' expression softens, and she reaches out, her fingers brushing Sam’s wrist lightly, just a fleeting touch, but enough to send a shiver up Sam’s spine. “I’m glad,” Jess says, her voice low and warm.
Sam doesn’t move, her heart pounding as Jess looks at her like she’s the only thing in the room that matters. Her mind feels like it’s short-circuiting. Every time she thinks she might have a grasp on the situation, Jess says or does something that completely unravels her again. Jess' gaze flicks to Sam’s face, then down to her hand, which is still nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. There’s a moment of quiet before Jess speaks again, her voice soft enough to make it feel like they’re in a bubble, detached from the chaos of the party.
“Can I ask you something?” Jess says, her tone casual but laced with something… curious.
Sam swallows hard, nodding because her throat feels too tight to form actual words.
“Why do you think it’s so hard to believe that I like you?”
Sam freezes, her breath catching in her chest. Her mind races, trying to come up with an answer—something coherent, something that doesn’t make her sound completely insecure.
“I don’t know,” she says finally, her voice quieter than she intended. “It just… doesn’t make sense.”
Jess raises an eyebrow, her expression softening but not losing any of its intensity. “Doesn’t make sense how?”
Sam hesitates, her fingers still twisting the edge of her sleeve. She doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to admit how she’s spent years thinking of Jess as this untouchable, perfect figure who exists in a completely different world from hers. But Jess doesn’t look away, her blue eyes steady and patient, and Sam feels like she’s unraveling all over again.
“Because…” Sam finally says, exhaling slowly. “You’re you.”
Jess tilts her head, her smile turning wry. “And what does that mean?”
Sam feels her face flush. She’s in too deep now to back out, so she plunges ahead, her voice growing steadier as the words come tumbling out. “You’re, like… confident. And gorgeous. And popular. Everyone loves you. You’ve got this… energy about you, like you’re always in control. You walk into a room, and people notice you. They look up to you. And I’m just…” She gestures vaguely at herself. “Not any of that.”
Jess doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Sam instantly regrets saying anything. She glances away, the warmth of embarrassment blooming in her chest, and wishes she could rewind the last thirty seconds. But then Jess laughs softly, and Sam’s head snaps back toward her, startled. Jess is smiling, not in a mocking or amused way, but in a way that feels surprisingly tender, like she’s looking at something she finds unexpectedly precious.
“Okay,” Jess says, still smiling. “Let me break this down for you.”
Sam blinks. “Break what down?”
“Why I like you,” Jess says matter-of-factly, and Sam’s heart skips a beat.
Before she can process what’s happening, Jess continues, her voice soft but firm. “For one, have you seen yourself?” Jess gestures toward her, her blue eyes scanning Sam with deliberate ease. “You’re kind of, like, really cute. Like, ridiculously cute.”
Sam feels her face warm up almost instantly. “Jess…”
“No, seriously,” Jess says, her tone playful but sincere. “You’ve got this whole thing going on—like, the way you wear your hair, and the way you look when you’re concentrating, all serious and focused. It’s adorable. And don’t get me started on your smile, because it’s honestly so cute.”
Sam feels like her entire body is on fire. She tries to say something, anything, but Jess keeps going.
“And that’s just the surface,” Jess says, leaning in slightly. Her expression shifts, growing softer, more vulnerable. “The real reason I like you? It’s because you’re… you.”
Sam blinks, startled by the echo of Jess' earlier words. But this time, Jess' tone is deeper, more deliberate, and Sam can feel the weight of it.
“You’re kind,” Jess continues, her voice quieter now. “You notice things other people don’t. Like, that day in freshman year, when you helped me find my first period? I was a total mess, and you didn’t laugh at me or roll your eyes. You just… helped. And you didn’t make a big deal out of it, either. You just did it because that’s who you are.”
Sam’s chest tightens. She remembers that day vaguely. Jess with her oversized backpack and a frantic look in her eyes… but it had been such a fleeting moment, something Sam barely thought about afterward. To think it had meant so much to Jess…
Jess smiles again, her eyes softening as they meet Sam’s. “And then there’s the way you always stand up for people. Like that time in sophomore year, when you told off that guy in gym class for making fun of Ashley? That was pretty badass.”
Sam’s mouth opens, but no words come out. She didn’t even realize Jess had been there for that.
Jess steps closer, her voice dropping even lower. “And the way you’re so real. You don’t try to impress people or pretend to be something you’re not. You’re just… steady. Grounded. And it makes me feel like I can breathe when I’m around you, however rare it might’ve been throughout the years.”
Sam’s breath catches, her heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. Jess is looking at her with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away, her blue eyes shimmering in the dim light.
“You’re not like anyone else,” Jess says softly. “And that’s why I like you.”
Sam doesn’t know what to do with herself. Her mind is spinning, her chest tight with emotions she can’t quite name. All she can do is stare at Jess, her words echoing in her head like a melody she’s afraid to forget.
Jess tilts her head, her smile turning shy for the first time all night. “So, uh… does that answer your question?”
Sam exhales shakily, a small, breathless laugh escaping her lips. “Yeah,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “It does.”
The world around them feels distant now, the muffled bass of the music and the occasional bursts of laughter from the party blending into white noise. All Sam can focus on is Jess, standing so close, her cheeks dusted pink, her blue eyes impossibly soft in the dim light of the kitchen. Sam’s mind won’t stop racing, looping through everything Jess has just said, replaying each word like she’s afraid she’ll forget them. Jess, confident, untouchable Jess, thinks she’s cute? Thinks she’s steady? Sam would laugh at the idea if it didn’t make her chest ache.
She glances at Jess again, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of her with the version she’s built in her head over the years. Jess has always seemed larger-than-life, this radiant, self-assured girl who thrives under attention, who fits so perfectly into the chaotic world of high school popularity that Sam never imagined her as anything but flawless.
But here she is now, leaning against a counter at her own party, talking about how much she hates the act, how exhausting it is to constantly perform. Jess' voice is softer now, her earlier teasing replaced with something gentler, more vulnerable. The confident girl who stood on a lunch table hours ago isn’t gone, exactly… but Sam can see now that there’s so much more to her.
And it hurts, in a way, to realize how little she really knows about Jess.
Sam wishes she’d known Jess felt this way about her sooner. Wishes she’d noticed the way Jess' eyes lingered on her in the hallways, or how Jess always smiled a little brighter when Sam was nearby. How had she missed it? How had she missed her?
Her gaze drops to Jess' lips without meaning to, and a warmth spreads through her chest, tugging at her like an invisible string. Jess' lips are wet from the drink she’s been nursing all night, slightly parted as she watches Sam with an expression that’s so open it makes Sam’s stomach flip.
She doesn’t know if it’s the warmth of the kitchen, or the way Jess is looking at her like there’s no one else in the world, but Sam suddenly feels like she’s burning from the inside out.
Jess shifts slightly, her hand brushing against the counter, and Sam’s eyes flick down without thinking. Before she knows what she’s doing, she reaches out. Jess’ hand is soft when Sam touches it, warm and delicate in a way that catches Sam off guard. She lets her fingers graze Jess’ lightly at first, unsure, but then she feels it… a subtle tremble, barely there but unmistakable, like Jess is just as nervous as she is.
Sam’s heart skips.
Jess is nervous.
The thought sends a ripple of courage through her, a warmth that pools in her chest and spreads outward. Jess, who always seems so sure of herself, so effortless, feels the same nervous energy thrumming through her that Sam does.
Jess' eyes dart down to their hands, her lashes fluttering slightly, and when she looks back up, her lips part just a fraction more. Her breathing changes, just enough for Sam to notice, and suddenly it’s like the air between them has shifted. Sam’s pulse races, her thoughts spiraling out of control. She’s never done this before… never been this close to someone she wants this badly. But looking at Jess now, at the faint blush dusting her cheeks and the way her lips glisten in the dim light, Sam knows she doesn’t want to let this moment pass her by.
Her fingers tighten slightly around Jess’, and when Jess doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even flinch, Sam takes a shaky breath. “Jess…”
Jess' eyes soften, her gaze flickering over Sam’s face, landing briefly on her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Yeah?” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music.
Sam doesn’t know how to put what she’s feeling into words, how to explain that this is the first time she’s felt so seen, so wanted— and the first time she’s ever wanted someone. And how to say that she’s scared but she doesn’t want to stop.
So instead, she leans in.
She leans in slowly, like she’s waiting for Jess to pull away or stop her. But Jess doesn’t move away. If anything, she leans in too, her free hand brushing lightly against Sam’s arm, sending a shiver down her spine.
Sam feels her breath hitch as the space between them disappears. Jess’ lips are soft and warm against hers, tasting faintly of whatever sweet, fruity drink she’s been sipping all night. For a moment, the world tilts, the noise of the party dissolving into nothing, leaving only the warmth of Jess' hand in hers and the electric buzz of the kiss.
It’s not perfect. Sam doesn’t know what she’s doing, and her heart is pounding so hard she’s sure Jess can feel it, but it doesn’t matter. Jess tilts her head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to make Sam’s stomach twist, and suddenly everything feels right.
When they finally pull back, the world comes rushing back in, the faint buzz of music from the other room, the muted hum of conversation, the warm light of the kitchen casting soft shadows across Jess' face. But none of it feels as overwhelming as it did before. Not with Jess standing so close, her hand still in Sam’s, her smile soft and a little breathless.
Jess’ cheeks are flushed, her blue eyes shimmering with something warm and unguarded. She squeezes Sam’s hand gently, her thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “That wasn’t so scary, was it?” she murmurs, her voice low but teasing.
Sam breathes out a quiet laugh, her chest still fluttering from the kiss. “No,” she says softly, her voice steadier than she expected. “Not scary.”
The truth is, she feels the opposite of scared. She feels light, like something inside her has shifted, like the weight she didn’t even realize she was carrying has been lifted. For so long, she’s kept her world small, safe, predictable. She’s stayed in her lane, convinced that someone like Jess could never fit into the quiet life she’s built for herself.
But now, with Jess standing here, her fingers warm and soft against Sam’s, all Sam can think is how much she doesn’t want to let this go.
Jess tilts her head, her smile widening slightly as she watches Sam. “What are you thinking about?”
Sam hesitates, but only for a moment. Her chest tightens as she looks at Jess, at the soft curve of her lips, still slightly pink and glossy. She’s beautiful, yes, but it’s not just that. It’s the way she’s looking at Sam now, open and patient and a little nervous, like this moment means just as much to her as it does to Sam.
“I’m thinking about Stanford,” Sam says quietly, her gaze dipping to their joined hands.
Jess raises an eyebrow, her expression curious. “What about it?”
Sam smiles faintly, glancing back up at her. “Just… that we’re both going there. That we’re going to the same place.” She pauses, her heart fluttering. “I don’t know. I guess I was kind of scared about it before… you know? Moving across the country, starting over… but now…” She trails off, unsure of how to put the swirling mess of thoughts into words.
Jess' smile softens, and she squeezes Sam’s hand again. “But now?”
Sam takes a shaky breath, letting herself hold Jess' gaze. “Now I’m… excited. Like, for the first time, I’m actually looking forward to it. Because you’ll be there.”
Jess' eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by something warmer, something that makes Sam’s chest feel tight in the best possible way.
“Well,” Jess says, her voice low and soft, “you just made my entire night.”
Sam laughs, the sound light and unrestrained, and she feels a sudden wave of something she hasn’t felt in a long time: hope. Hope for Stanford, for the new life waiting for her there. Hope for late nights and quiet moments and coffee shop study sessions where Jess would probably steal glances at her from across the table. Hope for them.
Because the truth is, Sam really, really likes Jess. She likes the way Jess teases her without ever making her feel small. She likes the way Jess opens up to her, the way she lets her guard down in a way Sam suspects not many people get to see. She likes the way Jess looks at her now, like she’s not just part of Jess' world but the center of it.
And for the first time, Sam lets herself believe that this could work. That she could have this, have Jess, have Stanford, have a future that’s brighter and more open than anything she’s imagined before.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” Jess says softly, her voice pulling Sam out of her thoughts.
Sam’s heart skips, and she smiles, her fingers tightening slightly around Jess'. “Me too.”
Jess grins, wide and a little goofy, and Sam can’t help but laugh again. She feels lighter now, like something has clicked into place, like maybe everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. Because Jess is here, and for the first time, Sam doesn’t feel scared about what’s ahead. She feels ready. And, more importantly, she feels happy.