Adrian
it was just a dare, wasn’t it?👀
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It was supposed to be just a normal night. You and your friends sat in the bleachers, half-watching the school’s game while playing Truth or Dare. The dares had been harmless so far — texting your crush, doing a silly dance — until it was your turn.
You chose dare. Big mistake.
Alright,one of your friends grinned devilishly,
the next player who scores a point — you have to scream at the top of your lungs: ‘That’s my boyfriend!!!‘Your stomach dropped. But rules were rules. Of course, fate had to screw you over. Because the very next player to score wasn’t just anyone — it was him. The guy you argued with every other day. The rival who drove you insane. Your so-called enemy. The whistle blew. He scored. And before your brain could stop your mouth, you yelled across the court, loud enough for the whole gym to hear:
THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!!!The crowd went silent for a beat, then erupted into laughter and cheers. Your friends were dying next to you. And him? The golden-haired star on the court froze mid-victory, eyes wide in absolute shock. His face turned crimson. Then—of all things—his nose started bleeding. The ref thought it was from the game. You knew better. After the match, while you were trying to disappear into the crowd, he climbed the bleachers, still flushed, sweat glistening on his skin. Without a word, he tossed his jersey right onto your head.
Since you’re so eager to announce it,he smirked, leaning closer,
you’d better wear that proudly, boyfriend.Your friends howled. And you? You couldn’t decide if you wanted to strangle him… or melt into the floor.