BLUSH [NutHong]

1

If someone asked me to describe my entire high school experience in one sentence, I'd probably say:

"It's a never-ending Olympic-level dodgeball game-except I'm not dodging balls, I'm dodging one very specific human being named Nut."

And no, I'm not exaggerating. Not even a little bit. Because when your long-time crush just so happens to be the most popular boy in school-a boy with perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect laugh, and a permanent crowd of people orbiting around him like he's the sun-it kind of makes functioning like a normal human being impossible.

Hi. I'm Hong. Just Hong. No nickname, no fanbase, no people whispering my name in the hallway. I'm the kid that can slip through a whole day of school without anyone noticing I exist. I've mastered the art of walking with my head down, sitting in the back, and pretending I'm deeply fascinated by the pattern of the linoleum floor during social interactions. If invisibility was a superpower, I'd be the main character in my own Marvel spin-off.

And I've been in love with Nut since the seventh grade.

Yep. Seven. Whole. Years.
And what have I done about it?

Absolutely nothing.
Because the last time I tried to talk to him-I'm not kidding-I dropped my water bottle, bent down to pick it up, and somehow headbutted his knee. He laughed. I didn't. I considered transferring schools that same day.

So, I've developed a system.
A highly detailed, fail-proof, panic-proof strategy that helps me survive everyday life without ever having to talk to, walk near, or even accidentally breathe the same air as Nut.

Step one: know his schedule.
Step two: avoid the main hallway between 10:45-11:00 because he's usually there, leaning against the lockers like a teen drama lead.
Step three: if you see him-run.

Which brings us to right now.

I was peacefully making my way to class, minding my own quiet, harmless existence, when I spotted him. Thirty feet ahead. Talking to William and Aungpao, laughing that laugh that probably has its own background music and soft lighting. And in that split second, I made a decision that only a deeply terrified, emotionally unstable teenager could make:

I ducked behind a locker.

And not subtly, either. I mean a full-on crouch, like some spy movie reject hiding from the enemy. My back slammed into the metal and I instantly regretted wearing this itchy hoodie because I was starting to sweat-both from fear and social awkwardness.

"Hong. Seriously?"

I didn't even have to look. That voice could only belong to one person.

Lego.
My one and only friend.
My forever brutally honest, zero-filter, glitter-wearing, iced-coffee-addicted best friend.

"You're being dramatic again," Lego said flatly, sipping from their bubble tea as if my current emotional crisis wasn't worth more than a blink.

"No, no, no, no. Don't look. Is he still there? Don't turn your head so fast! Are you trying to get me killed?" I whisper-yelled, grabbing Lego's sleeve like I was in a war movie and we were under enemy fire.

Lego gave me the most unimpressed look a human has ever given another. "You realize you just did a combat roll into the janitor's zone like we're in Call of Duty, right?"

"I panicked!"

"You panic every time he breathes."

"Well maybe he shouldn't breathe so charmingly!" I hissed. "Did you see his jawline today? He had his hair half-tucked behind his ear. Half, Lego. It's a crime against my nervous system."

"Oh my god," Lego muttered, sipping again. "I should start charging you for therapy."

I peeked around the corner like a raccoon in a horror movie. Nut was still there, still laughing, still impossibly perfect in that casually-messy-but-probably-intentional kind of way. He was leaning his head back, laughing at something William said, and I swear I saw a lens flare even though we were inside a school hallway with fluorescent lighting.

I turned back and whispered, "Okay. He's gonna leave in five seconds. I just need to wait him out."

"Or," Lego suggested, "you could just walk past like a normal person and maybe even say 'hi' for once."

I gasped like Lego had just proposed something illegal.

"No. Are you trying to kill me? Do you want my heart to explode inside my chest? Because that's what will happen if he looks at me. I'll combust. I'll turn into dust. You'll have to mop up my remains."

Lego blinked at me. "Dramatic. Again."

But I was already deep in my mental escape plan when the worst possible thing happened.

"Hey-Hong, right?"

The world froze.

That voice. That voice.

No no no no no no no-

I turned my head in the slowest, most painfully awkward motion known to mankind... and there he was.

Nut.

Standing. In front of me.
Smiling.

Sweet. Kind. Gentle-eyed. And, worst of all, genuinely waiting for my reply.

"Uh-yeah," I croaked, eyes wide. "That's-me. Yep. I'm-me."

Nut's eyebrows scrunched in this way that was entirely too cute. "Cool. You're in my Math class, right?"

"Math," I repeated stupidly. "Yes. Sometimes. Always. Depends."

Lego quietly walked away before their secondhand embarrassment became terminal.

Nut chuckled-and I swear the sound rewired my brain chemistry. "Well, see you around."

He walked away. Just like that.

But the world kept spinning. My legs, however, did not.

Fast forward to ten minutes later. I arrived at the classroom door. And guess who was already there, holding it open like the literal embodiment of a Disney prince?

"Hey," Nut said, smiling again, that casual kind that made my brain evaporate. "After you."

I stared. Froze. This was it. This was the moment. The one where I could walk past him, say thank you like a normal human being, maybe even throw in a smile.

But no.
My survival instincts kicked in.

I turned.
And walked through the other door.

Because if he looked at me any longer, I was 100% going to explode.

Probably.