Sophia was never great at keeping secrets from herself.
Sure, she could act like she didn't notice how her heart raced whenever Daniel walked into a room. She could pretend she hadn't memorized the sound of his laugh or that she wasn't always keeping an eye on him.
But deep down, she knew better.
So one night, after yet another day of pretending, she settled cross-legged on her bed with her favorite pen and opened the worn leather diary Nathan had given her for her thirteenth birthday.
She flipped through old entries about school, friends, and summer plans.
Then she paused at a blank page and wrote:
"I think I'm in love with Daniel Harper."
Those words felt heavier than they should have.
She stared at them for what felt like ages before closing the diary and slipping it under her pillow like it was some kind of secret evidence.
This wasn't just a crush. She'd had those before—fleeting, silly things that faded without much thought. But this was different.
This feeling was constant.
This feeling hurt.
She recalled the first time she said his name out loud as if it actually meant something—whispering it to herself in the mirror when no one was there to hear. She remembered how her cheeks warmed even then.
Yet, every time she saw him, she played it cool. Smiled, laughed, let him mess with her hair and call her "Soph."
Because if she showed him what was really in her heart…
What if he laughed?
What if he looked at her like she was still twelve?
What if he completely disappeared?
One afternoon, her best friend Lena caught her staring at Daniel again. This time, she was peeking through the kitchen window while he leaned against the porch railing, chatting with Nathan and their friends.
"You're doing it again," Lena said, nudging her gently.
Sophia blinked. "Doing what?"
Lena smirked. "That thing where you pretend not to be in love with him."
Sophia's stomach sank. "I don't—I mean, I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," Lena cut in. "You look at him like he's the only one that matters in the room."
Sophia swallowed hard and shifted her gaze away.
"I don't know what to do," she whispered. "He doesn't see me."
Lena sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it's time to make him see you."
Sophia wished she could believe that.
But until Daniel looked at her like he looked at other girls—with interest, curiosity, desire—she'd keep writing down her feelings in ink instead of saying them out loud.
For now, her diary was the only place where Daniel Harper could truly belong to her.
Even if it was just in secret.