close enough, lynn loud

2, set up

"Lynn, what the hell!"

"I'm sorry! Just try out, you'll never know!" she tries to speed walk away as if you couldn't just match her pace.

She wrote your name down on the tryouts for cheerleading that were happening later this week.

"Writing someone's name without their permission is illegal, you know?" you say to her in the lowest voice you can manage, but she just laughs.

"Don't do that voice! It's scary!" she exclaims as she turns the lock on her locker.

You lean against the locker next to hers. Yours was on the other side of the building, and walking with her to get to each other's was your favorite part of the day. It's when you two had the longest chats, talking about nothing and everything all at the same time.

"Shut up. You can get in jail for this, y'know?" you tell her seriously.

"Oh, yeah? I'm not caught yet, am I, Officer?" she says with a smirk, and it catches you off guard. She always knows how to shut you up.

"Wh-"

You haven't even started your sentence when she says goodbye, "Gotta go, Officer. I'm late for class!" She runs off like nothing happened.

Does she know what she does to you? Of course she knows. She knows she's pretty. Pretty privilege is a crime. She really needs to get humbled, for my sake at least. You think to yourself.

In class, you think back to when you first caught feelings. It was somewhere in kindergarten when she defended you from a couple kids picking on you. You didn't realize it then, since you were both so young, but you could feel your heart flutter.

You were less of a sport than she was, and in hindsight, you two wouldn't make the best match for such close friends.

She was the sporty, outgoing, easy to talk to, funny kid. You two didn't have much in common except for probably video games, so it was miraculous how you two could become such good friends. She knew how to get a conversation going, and talking to her was like no in between. There were no awkward pauses or weird moments, and you loved her for it. You could tell her anything, and nothing would change.

Well, except for your feelings. How could you ever tell her that? She didn't even know you were into girls. Did she like girls? Sure, Lynn had sisters who liked girls too, but did she?

She was never explicitly interested in anyone, she was always just focused on sports or winning or winning sports. And it's not like she ever noticed your pining, thank God. You don't think anyone has noticed yet.

So, you were in the clear.

You feel a tap on your shoulder. "Pst, (Y/N)."

You suppress a roll of your eyes. Not him again.

"(Y/N)," he whispers yells and you have no choice but to look back before the teacher notices.

"What?" you say, annoyed. It's too early in the morning for this.

"Woah, chill! I just wanted to ask what the teacher said." He gives you a lazy smile.

Michael Owens. Better known as Mike. He's been in your biology class since, what? freshman year? You were seniors now.

He's a conventionally attractive brunette and a jock. Like Lynn if she were a boy. But he wasn't her.

"She said the submission for the project was next week." you turn back to your desk.

He wasn't disheartened at your indifference. He and Lynn have that in common too. Never one to give up.

You're not even looking back at him anymore, but you can tell he's smiling when he replies, "Thanks, (Y/N), you're the best!"