Sweaty Palms and Second Chances

I felt like a zombie. Three hours of sleep will do that to you, especially when you spent them overthinking a text you never sent.

"You good, man?" Marcus asked, bumping my shoulder as we walked toward the cafeteria.

"Yeah. Just tired." I adjusted my faded orange hoodie—my lucky hoodie, the one I'd worn every Friday since September. Because today was the day. Today I'd finally talk to Zahra.

My palms were sweating. I wiped them on my jeans, probably for the twentieth time. Marcus caught me doing it and smirked.

"You've been running mental laps all morning. Just talk to her already."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's been crushing for six months without saying a single word beyond 'here's your homework.'"

We grabbed lunch and sat at our usual table. And there she was—Zahra, three tables away, laughing at something her friend said. Her hair fell across her face and she tucked it behind her ear. My heart did this stupid fluttery thing.

"Go," Marcus said.

"What? No."

"I swear to god, if you don't go over there right now, I'm going to tell everyone about that time you—"

"Okay, okay! I'm going."

I stood up. My legs felt like they might not actually work. This was it. I'd bear my soul, or at least attempt to form actual sentences.

But before I could take a step, Zahra looked up and caught my eye. And then—she smiled. Not a polite smile. A real one.

She stood up and walked over to our table.

"Hey, Amir," she said. And then the words that made my entire year: "You know that horror movie marathon at the downtown theater tonight? Zombie movie night? I was wondering if you wanted to go. With me."

My brain short-circuited. Marcus practically fell out of his chair trying not to laugh.

"Yeah," I managed, my voice cracking exactly once. "Yeah, I'd love that."

"Cool. Pick me up at seven?" She wrote her number on a napkin and winked.

As she walked away, I looked at Marcus. "Did that just happen?"

"My man," he said, shaking his head. "All that stress, and she was gonna ask you the whole time."

I wiped my palms one last time and grinned. Sometimes the scary parts aren't as terrifying as we build them up to be. Sometimes you just have to show up.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you get lucky.