THE WRONG LOVE LETTER
At Ridgewood High, secrets didn’t last long. Not because people couldn’t keep them, but because the walls were thinner than the cafeteria pizza crust and gossip traveled faster than Wi-Fi.
So when Lily Martinez, a junior with big glasses, messy hair, and a hopeless crush on Ryan Carter, decided to write him a love letter, she knew it was risky.
Risky, but worth it.
Ryan wasn’t just the star of the basketball team—he was the kind of boy who held doors open, who helped the janitor carry heavy boxes, who looked like a rom-com lead whenever the sun hit his stupid perfect hair.
Lily had admired him from afar for two years. She’d rehearsed confessions in the mirror, written “Mrs. Lily Carter” in the margins of her notebooks, and once accidentally shouted “I LOVE—ly weather we’re having!” when he walked by.
Clearly, subtlety was not her strength.
So, after weeks of pep talks from her best friend Maya, she wrote him a letter.
It wasn’t poetry, but it was honest: You make my heart race faster than Mr. Donaldson’s quizzes. I like you. A lot. If you feel the same, meet me at the bleachers after school.
She folded it neatly, stuffed it into an envelope, and carefully wrote his name on the front.
And then… she panicked.
Instead of handing it to him, she slipped it into his locker before first period. Smooth. Perfect. Foolproof.
Except she put it in the wrong locker.
By third period, Lily knew something was wrong.
Maya slid into the desk beside her in Chemistry, wide-eyed. “Did you do it?”
“I did it!” Lily whispered, both thrilled and nauseous.
Maya gasped dramatically. “So now we wait?”
Lily nodded. “We wait.”
Unfortunately, “waiting” lasted all of ten minutes—because Jake Henderson, class clown, certified menace, and owner of Locker 128 (the one directly next to Ryan’s), came swaggering into class waving a letter.
Lily’s letter.
“Guys,” Jake announced, grinning from ear to ear, “looks like I’ve got a secret admirer.”
Lily nearly fainted.
“Read it!” someone shouted.
“No, don’t read it!” Lily blurted out, too loudly. Half the class turned to look at her. She shrank into her seat, red as a fire hydrant.
Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m definitely reading it.”
He cleared his throat and began: ‘You make my heart race faster than Mr. Donaldson’s quizzes—’
The class erupted into laughter. Even Mr. Donaldson, who was supposed to be supervising, chuckled from his desk.
Lily buried her face in her arms. Maya whispered frantically, “Abort mission! Fake a seizure! Anything!”
Jake continued dramatically: ‘I like you. A lot. If you feel the same, meet me at the bleachers after school.’
He clutched the letter to his chest. “Wow. I never knew anyone felt this way about me. Who could it be?”
His eyes swept the room. For one horrifying moment, they locked onto Lily.
She squeaked.
“Oh my God,” Maya muttered, “he knows.”
The rest of the day was torture.
Everywhere Lily went, someone whispered “love letter.” Jake strutted through the halls like a celebrity, dramatically checking his watch and saying things like, “Ah yes, my romantic rendezvous awaits.”
Ryan, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious. He smiled at Lily once in the cafeteria, and she dropped her tray. Classic.
By last period, Lily was ready to move to another country.
Maya, however, had a plan. “Just tell Jake it was meant for Ryan,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I can’t!” Lily hissed. “That’s social suicide!”
“Lily, this is social suicide.”
After the final bell, Lily had no choice. She dragged her feet to the bleachers, praying Jake had forgotten.
Of course, he hadn’t.
He was already there, holding a bouquet of dandelions he’d clearly yanked from the football field. “Ah, my mysterious admirer arrives!”
Lily groaned. “Jake, listen, there’s been a—”
Before she could finish, Ryan walked up.
Yes. Ryan Carter.
Mr. Perfect Hair himself.
“Oh hey,” he said casually, holding up a basketball. “You wanted to meet after school?”
Lily froze. Her brain short-circuited. “Meep?”
Jake smirked. “Interesting. So Ryan was the real target.”
Ryan frowned. “Wait. What’s going on?”
Jake handed him the letter. “Love triangle. Classic.”
Lily considered digging a hole under the bleachers and living there forever.
Ryan read the note silently. His face was unreadable. Then he looked at her. “You wrote this?”
Lily nodded weakly. “Yes. But it was supposed to go in your locker, not his.”
For a terrifying second, Ryan just stared. Then, slowly… he smiled.
“Well,” he said, tossing the ball from hand to hand, “I guess I’ll see you here after practice tomorrow too, then?”
Lily blinked. “Wait. What?”
“I like you too,” Ryan said simply. “Always have.”
Jake gasped dramatically. “Unbelievable! Betrayed by my own fake admirer!”
“Jake,” Lily snapped, “you were never part of this!”
He clutched the dandelions to his chest. “Tell that to my broken heart.”
The next day, the whole school knew about Lily and Ryan. There were whispers, giggles, and more than a few jealous looks.
But Lily didn’t care.
Because for once, her heart wasn’t racing from embarrassment—it was racing because Ryan Carter had actually held her hand.
And Jake?
Jake stood on the cafeteria table at lunch, shouting, “Applications for a new secret admirer are officially open!”
No one applied.
