The countdown was on. Only three days left until Valentine's Day — the day I planned to tell James exactly how I felt. The thought sent a thrill through me every time I let it sneak into my mind, but it also tangled my stomach into nervous knots.
That morning, I woke up feeling both excited and terrified. I caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled shyly at the girl staring back — the girl who was about to step out of the shadows and into the light. My heart pounded so hard I was pretty sure it could be heard from across the room.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Sophie was already there, bright and full of energy like always. She saw my anxious smile and laughed.
"Still nervous, huh?" she teased as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Yeah," I admitted, stirring my own tea. "I keep imagining all the ways this could go wrong."
Sophie grinned. "That's normal. But remember, we've got a plan. And it's going to be amazing."
Later that afternoon, we sprawled across my bed with notebooks, fairy lights, and a scatter of Valentine's Day decorations. The mission? To make my confession the most unforgettable, romantic moment the college had ever seen.
"Okay," Sophie began, adjusting a string of tiny pink lights around my headboard like a crown. "First, the location. We need somewhere public but not too crowded."
"The Valentine's Day party in the auditorium," I said quickly. "Everyone will be there. It'll be loud, and… dramatic."
Sophie's eyes sparkled. "Exactly what we want! Big stage, big spotlight."
We sketched out the plan: a surprise announcement during the party's midpoint, when the music softened and all eyes would be on me. Sophie even suggested a little music cue — maybe a slow song I liked, something meaningful but not too cheesy.
No grand gesture was complete without the right outfit.
I held up my usual glasses, the ones I'd worn through high school. Sophie shook her head emphatically.
"Nope. Glasses stay off. We're going full glam this time. Think soft curls, subtle makeup, and something that says 'confident but approachable.'"
We pulled out a few options from my closet. Sophie held up a sleek red dress and made a dramatic twirl.
"This. This is the Charlotte everyone will remember."
The hardest part was what to say. I wanted honesty, but I also wanted to sound confident — not like a nervous wreck.
Sophie sat across from me, her eyes encouraging.
"Just speak from your heart," she said. "Tell James what you feel, why you like him, and how much you hope he feels the same."
We rehearsed, and rehearsed. At first, my voice cracked, and I stumbled over the words. But by the end of the day, I could say my speech without freezing up, and that felt like a small victory.
That night, though, the doubts crept in again like shadows at the edges of my mind.
"What if he doesn't feel the same?" I whispered to Sophie as we lay in bed.
She turned to me, serious now. "Then you'll be proud you tried. You're brave, Charlotte. No matter what happens, you're amazing."
Her words warmed me like a cozy blanket, and I clung to them.
The day before Valentine's, Sophie pulled me into a tight hug.
"This is your moment. You're going to shine. And whatever happens, I'm right here with you."
I smiled, heart swelling with gratitude and hope. The countdown wasn't just to Valentine's Day anymore — it was to a new chapter, one I was ready to face head-on.