Love is old, love is new. Love is all, love is you. - The Beatles

"Prove them wrong, and you'll kill two birds with one stone. The first bird is called them being called out, and embarrassed. At first sight, this bird seems to be the most satisfying and rewarding, but in reality the second bird reaps those benefits more. It is the bird of lifting the burden. No longer can these words be put to your name - these untruths." That's what my mother always said to me whenever I told her the words I can't do it. She'd bend down and look at me long and hard, then she would say these words and lift my chin up. And she'd smile, and then her hand would brush my cheek - soft.

She is always soft, my mother.

I was thinking about what Adrian had told me. Maybe Peter liked me back, and I wasn't a fool for liking him. Maybe we could happen.

I dragged a towel over my body and closed the shower curtain. Peter was going to be here soon, to take me to school. I wasn't sure whether to approach the question of us being together then or later, with Adrian.

My phone buzzed - Adrian. As if he'd read my mind.

You're going to be fine Astrid. Ask him out when you want. But make it quick - others like him, Martha told me.

Thanks Adrian. How's things with Martha 😏😏😏?

He doesn't reply. I quickly fire off a text to Peter. I'm ready. Where are you?

Close.

👌

There's the sound of tyres on tarmac and I look through the window to see Peter's car rolling up the drive. I'm outside before he even opens the doors. I've gone for a shorter outfit than usual - my shirt shows off a small strip of stomach and my skirt usually grazes me knees, but today it's half the size. I've made subtle changes to my makeup, with added eyeliner and mascara. When I looked into the mirror that morning I told myself there were 3 ways I could look into the mirror and see myself next. The first, with Peter as a boyfriend, the second, a girl who'd been too scared to ask out her crush, and the last, a girl with lots of makeup who'd been rejected.

I took a deep breath. For this, I'd need strength. I couldn't believe I was going to do it. I was going to do it.

"Hey, Astrid," Peter says, and I sink in the seat beside him. He's smiling.

I turn to him as he places his hands on the wheel. "I need to -" I begin, but he's started driving, and I don't want to break his concentration. He tosses his hair at me, an invitation to go on. "I'll tell you late, it's fine," I say in response and he shrugs. I turn on my phone and take a quick Instagram story.

"What's up with the wardrobe change?" He gestures at my skirt and top.

"You don't like it?" I say, trying desperately to flirt.

He grins. "Astrid, you look amazing. You always do."

I flush and he laughs. He steers the car to the left. The road we're down stretches out in front of us - an infinite path. He steers us on, dodging cars and motorbikes tearing down the road. He hands something to me silently, and I take it. A coffee. My favorite from last month - Toasted coconut pumpkin spice latte. "Thanks," I throw myself around him, making sure not to obscure his vision or entrap his hands. He makes a snuffling sound and I release him. He's beaming, his eyes lit up like a firework display.

The car turns right and up a long twisty road. Peter turns on the radio and a song blares out - I Love It by Icona Pop.

"I got this feeling on that summer day when you were gone," I begin, singing along. Peter joins in on the next line, his voice melodic.

We both sing for the chorus and at the end of it his arm slinks around my shoulders. "You're a good singing partner, Astrid," He says as the next song begins, one we don't know.

"Not as good as you," I say, as he swivels the wheel. Now would be the perfect time, just to blurt the three words out. I like you.

I like you.

It shouldn't be this hard.

Another song plays. K-pop. I honestly don't mind it, but Peter low-key loves it. He doesn't like showing it off though.

"They call me artist, they call me idol," He mutters under his breath. I squeeze his shoulder and sing along to the occasional English lyrics.

"You can't stop me lovin' myself!" Peter sings, loud, and I begin snapping my fingers. He drives on, nodding his head, singing loudly to the English, muttering the lyrics for the Korean. At Nicki Minaj's solo, he sings along to the whole thing and so do I - I've listened to BTS' Idol so many times I'm used to it.

Towards the end of the song Peter's arm tightens around my shoulders. I nestle closer, and he stiffens slightly, then relaxes. He drives a little faster, hurtling down the road and round one of the last bends. The school appears in the distance - there's time for one last song. While it plays, Peter sighs. "Are you ready for the math test?"

"Not really," I reply, suddenly worried. I need to formulate a plan to stop him from getting out the car when we stop so I can tell him my feelings. An idea comes to me. "Need to study?"

"No, I studied all night. Yeah, I'm studious now," He says, off my stunned look.

Drat.

The school gates pass us and Peter draws the car up and pulls it into park. He opens his door. . . I stretch an arm out and grab his arm. He turns and looks at me, a questioning look. "Nothing," I mutter as my courage fails me. He slams the door behind him.

I get out too. He locks the car and walks a few paces away. "C'mon," He says over his shoulder, in my direction. I follow him, pulling my bag higher up my shoulders. All I can think about is my cowardice.

I can't believe I chickened out.

I could be kissing Peter right now, if I hadn't just chickened out of asking him out.

Peter turns to me. "You coming, Astrid?" There's tears in my eyes. His eyes widen. "Astrid, are you okay? What have I done? Did I do something?" He pulls me into a hug. "Are you okay?" He asks me again.

"You did nothing. I'm just an idiot." I say.

"You're not."

As he says this another girl appears - that girl from yesterday. Monica. She strolls over and rests a hand on Peter's shoulder. Get off! I want to shout, but I don't.

"You okay, Astrid?" Monica says, smirking at me, not Peter's smirk but an evil smirk. I nod, stopping the tears. Monica turns Peter's face to hers. She actually grabs his face and turns it. "Project?" She questions. He nods, and she slips her arm through his.

"See you, Astrid," Peter waves, sending me a sorry look.

I try to smile. I can't.

I am a complete idiot.