Eli had never felt more afraid of the sound of footsteps.
Because footsteps meant people. And people meant more attention. And attention, as he was learning fast, meant disaster.
He kept his eyes on the floor as he moved through the hallway, trying to ignore the stares, the giggles, and the occasional not-so-subtle point in his direction. Every classroom he passed felt like a spotlight waiting to hit him.
His sketchbook stayed zipped in his bag now.
Not because he was hiding it.
Because he didn't trust it.
The last time he let that thing breathe, he ended up with three confessions, two hugs, one cheek kiss, and more inner panic than his poor heart could handle.
He didn't even want to think about what would happen if more girls started seeing his drawings.
Unfortunately, the universe didn't care about what Eli wanted.
"Attention," Mr. Grey said at the front of the class. "As you all know, the school festival is coming up next week."
Groans, excitement, and whispering rippled through the class.
Eli flinched. He had completely forgotten.
Mr. Grey scribbled a list of event categories on the board. "Each class must submit one booth. It can be a cafe, a game, a haunted house, whatever you agree on. We vote today."
Eli tried to slide further into his chair.
Next to him, Jay immediately perked up.
"Let's do a cosplay cafe," Jay said with zero shame. "Girls in maid outfits. It's what the people want."
Someone threw an eraser at him. Jay didn't even blink.
"Voting time," Mr. Grey called. "Raise your hand for haunted house."
A good number of hands.
"Cosplay cafe?"
Even more.
Jay fist-pumped.
Eli rested his head on his desk.
By lunchtime, word had already spread.
Apparently, Class 2B was going full anime. Maid outfits and all.
Jay was the self-declared "costume consultant," which meant he spent the entire break offering sizing help to girls who didn't ask for it. He even pitched a "butler section" for balance, which got him less approval than he expected.
Eli escaped to the art club room as fast as possible.
He wasn't even sure what he was drawing anymore. Just lines, curves, strokes that meant nothing but helped his brain breathe.
He paused, glancing out the window.
The sun sat high in the sky, casting golden light across the school courtyard. A group of girls walked by, laughing. Somewhere in the distance, a soccer ball thumped against the fence.
Normal. Calm. Safe.
He sighed and leaned back.
A knock at the door ruined everything.
"Eli?"
He turned.
Lila stood in the doorway with a lunchbox in her hands and a hopeful look on her face.
"I made too much. Want to share?"
Eli blinked. "You… cooked?"
She nodded and stepped in, placing the box on the desk beside his sketchbook.
"I thought it'd be nice. You've looked kind of overwhelmed lately."
That was an understatement.
He opened the box slowly. Inside were perfectly cut egg rolls, grilled chicken, rice molded into little stars, and what looked like tiny octopus-shaped sausages.
"Wow," he said. "This looks like it belongs in a cooking show."
Lila blushed. "It's nothing fancy. I just wanted to do something nice for you."
They ate quietly for a few minutes. Eli didn't know what to say, but the food was good. Better than good. It was the kind of food that made you feel like someone cared.
She watched him eat like she was waiting for a review.
"This is… really good," he said.
Her smile lit up the room.
Then, after a beat of silence, she spoke again.
"I saw you walking with Brooke yesterday."
Eli choked slightly.
"And Emma the day before."
He wiped his mouth. "It's not like that. I didn't ask for any of this."
Lila's expression didn't change. "I know. That's what makes it harder."
He stared at her.
"I've liked you for a while," she said. "Before the sketches. Before Valentine's. You were kind. Quiet. Always looking out for people, even when they didn't see it."
Eli felt the weight of her words settle into his chest.
"I thought maybe I had a head start," she added softly. "But now… it feels like I'm just one of many."
He didn't know how to respond. Not without making it worse.
"I'm not mad," she said quickly. "Just… don't forget I was the first one to confess. And I meant every word."
She stood up, her eyes soft but steady.
"Thanks for eating with me."
Then she left.
Eli stared at the empty lunchbox, unsure if he was supposed to feel grateful or guilty.
Probably both.
Jay was waiting outside the door with the worst timing imaginable.
"Bro," he whispered. "Was that a love lunch?"
"Go away."
"Was there sausage shaped like animals?"
"Jay."
"Dude, you are so harem-core right now it hurts."
Eli grabbed his bag and left, ignoring the dramatic way Jay threw his arms in the air behind him.
That evening, Eli sat on his bed, sketchbook in his lap.
He flipped through the pages again.
Lila's smile in the garden.
Emma's quiet sleep.
Brooke's bold stare.
Every one of them felt like a memory pressed in pencil. A piece of time he didn't realize would mean so much later.
And now each one had somehow led him here. To this tangle of feelings and expectation he wasn't prepared for.
He thought about stopping.
But something inside him kept drawing.
He turned to a new page and started again.
Not a girl this time.
Not even a face.
Just a scene.
A festival booth. Maid outfits. Friends laughing. Lights in the background.
And at the center… himself. Looking lost.
He stared at the page and sighed.
Maybe it was time to talk to someone who wasn't trying to confess their feelings.
The next morning, Eli made a mistake.
He arrived early.
That gave Jay enough time to ambush him before homeroom with a clipboard, a grin, and way too much energy.
"Good news," Jay said. "You're officially in charge of decorations for our maid cafe."
"What? Why?"
"Because you're the only one who can draw backgrounds that don't look like cursed scribbles."
Eli rubbed his forehead. "I didn't agree to this."
"You didn't say no fast enough. That's consent."
"That's… not how anything works."
But it was too late. Jay had already skipped off, shouting something about measuring tape and budget cuts.
Eli slumped into his seat.
Maybe the school festival would give him a break.
Or maybe it would only make things worse.
He opened his bag to grab his textbook.
A folded note fell out.
He froze.
The paper was pale pink with a tiny sticker sealing it shut.
Carefully, he opened it.
"Meet me after school behind the gym. I have something to say."
No name. No signature.
Just neat handwriting and a heart at the end.
Eli looked around.
Three girls in class were watching him.
Brooke raised an eyebrow.
Lila smiled.
Emma tapped her pencil.
He felt the sweat gather on his palms.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.