I heard you are going to resist me

I had a crush on him for years, and I finally made my move. At the high school reunion, I pretended to be drunk, cornered him, and, well, you know. Halfway through, I panicked. Regret hit me like a ton of bricks.

So, I redressed him, trying to pretend nothing happened. Except his clothes were kinda ripped, and I couldn’t get his belt buckle back together… I stood there for three seconds, praying he’d wake up with amnesia. Then, I ran. I hopped on the first Greyhound bus back to my hometown that night.

The next morning, my mom found me on the doorstep with massive dark circles. “Did you rob a bank or something?” she asked, startled. I flinched. Robbing a bank sounded less intense than what I’d actually done. “Go lie down. I’ll call you for breakfast," Mom said. She’s all bark and no bite. Always fussing, but always making sure I'm fed.

I stumbled back to my room and crashed for the whole day. I woke up starving in the late afternoon. There was a takeout container and a note on my nightstand: "Eat when you wake up. Mom’s out playing bingo. Do not disturb." Sometimes, I wonder if I’m adopted. I forced down a few bites but had zero appetite. My head was pounding, and I felt burning up. Crap. I grabbed a thermometer. Yep, fever.

I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, then googled “fever after extreme stress and exhaustion.” Apparently, it’s a thing. I groaned, remembering my reckless behavior. I grabbed some ice for my head and checked the class group chat.

One message jumped out: “Sarah, did you and my brother… you know… last night?” My blood ran cold. I frantically messaged Jessica, my big-mouthed best friend. "Jessica! You posted that in the group chat! Delete it!"

“Oh, I didn’t realize. I don’t think I can undo it now.”

“My new Dior lipstick is yours.”

“Nope, can’t undo it.”

“My signed Harry Styles album!”

“Deleted!”

Seriously?!

She’d deleted it, but I still obsessively monitored the chat for half an hour, just to be safe. Lying in bed, I replayed the night's events, cringing with every memory.

Jessica was my high school BFF and deskmate. She shipped me and her brother, Ethan, hard. The whole school knew about my crush, thanks to her. Ethan, her twin brother, was our class president. Tall, handsome, smart – he was a high school legend, drowning in love letters. Jessica would sneak them out of his room, and we’d rip them up together.

“Won't your brother be mad?” I’d asked nervously.

“Nah, he’ll be grateful we’re handling his fan mail,” she’d assured me. Then someone snapped a photo of us shredding letters and posted it on the school forum. The title: "Girl Obsessed with School Hunk Destroys His Love Letters." Jessica said I should thank her for finally getting Ethan to notice me.

Notice me he did. From then on, if he saw me from ten feet away, he’d turn and walk the other way. In class, even though our desks were only a row apart, he'd take the long way around the classroom to avoid me. I was probably a certified creep in his eyes. ...