Grace tried to look both open to conversation but not desperate at the same time, as she saw a blinding shade of orange being held in someone's hand and knew it was a basketball jersey. Sure enough, Simon was heading over to talk to her with his usually sweaty jersey clean and pressed in his hands.
She could tell he was squeezing it tightly, because his knuckles were ghostly white. Aw. He was nervous. "Er, Grace?"
His voice cracked just like it had the very first time he spoke to her in elementary school.
"Yeah, Si?"
She tried to look busy with her math notebook when she realized he was waiting for her eyes to meet his.
And when they finally did, something seemed to click into place like a seatbelt being fastened.
"Um, Grace, tomorrow's the day where the team's girlfriends usually wear their jerseys before the tournament," he reminded her.
Grace tried not to let the fireworks happening inside her chest show on the outside. In fact, she hardened herself just in case.
"But you don't have a girlfriend..." she said.
"I know."
Simon blushed.
"So I thought you could wear it."
Grace's eyes grew to the size of frisbees.
"Wait, but wouldn't that make me your...-"
He scooped her hand into his, and she could feel his unsteady pulse in the palm of his hand.
"Girlfriend."
Grace melted.