"I know this might be a few years too late," he says, voice dipping low and teasing, "but like every love letter, it deserves a proper reply."
My brows knit, confusion bubbling up.
What is he—
Zach chuckles when he sees my face, that mix of charm and mischief written all over him. Then he glances toward the pep band and gives a little flick of his wrist—a silent cue.
A heartbeat later, the opening chords ofYou Are In Lovefloat through the arena.
The crowd starts humming along automatically, a few even swaying.
He starts singing, and for a split second, I think I imagined it wrong, but—
"Time moved too fast,
we play it back,
You in my jersey, spinning 'round—I laughed...
Late-night talks, your head on my chest
No proof, not much
But I saw enough."
The air catches in my throat. My pulse stutters.
He changed the lyrics.
Dozens of confused heads tilt upward. The people who were ready to belt the next line are suddenly mid-breath, blinking at each other like,wait, what?
Sam snorts beside me, covering her mouth. "Oh my God... he changed the lyrics."
"You kept that heart-shaped locket,
The one I gave before prom night,
Said it wasn't much, but you wore it like gold..."
Someone in the crowd shouts, "THAT'S NOT HOW IT GOES!"
But he just flashes a grin, unbothered, voice cracking spectacularly on the next line.
And me? I'm trying not to cry.
Because every word he's singing... it's ours.Ourmemories.
"That night, we almost kissed,
One step, not much—
But it said enough."
My heart slams against my ribs like it's trying to break free. Each line digs deeper, threading through every memory I'vetried not to replay—prom night, late-night talks, that stupid locket.
I press a hand to my chest, a shaky breath escaping.
God, I can still see him that night—nervous, hopeful, like giving me that silly little necklace was the most important thing he'd ever do.
