Imagines and One-Shots (Book Two)

What I Like About You (Ryan Follese)

i literally couldnt come up with a better title fam

anyway. i was gonna post an ashton thing today but i finished this and since my boi alycia's birthday was yesterday, i thought i'd bump this up to today and save ashton for sunday

~

"R-Ryan," you said, nervously approaching the boy at his locker. He turned to look at you, his eyes widening upon realizing it was you speaking to him. He didn't say anything though, so you had to just be brave and do what you came over here to do. "Do you... I mean..." you cleared your throat, "Will you...go to homecoming with me...?" He was still silent, but when he finally opened his mouth to speak, you heard the last thing you wanted to hear.

"I-I already have a date, I'm sorry," he whispered. Your heart dropped and your face fell, but you did your best to fake a smile, not wanting him to see how disappointed you were.

"Oh, okay," you barely nodded, "Sorry for bothering you."

"You're not bo-"

Ryan cut himself off when you quickly turned around and rushed away, leaving him alone at his locker once again. His eyes followed you down the hallway, waiting until you were out of sight before he sighed and went back to getting his books.

Whenever Ryan saw you throughout the rest of the day – and in the days leading up to the dance – you would never be looking at him. Before, he would always catch you glancing at him during class, but now, you hadn't so much as looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

As far as Ryan knew, you didn't like him. Well, maybe you liked him, but he never thought you liked him in the boyfriend-girlfriend sense. But when you nervously asked him to go to the homecoming dance with you, he started second-guessing himself.

Because why would you have asked him to the dance if you didn't like him?

~

Two weeks later

It was the night of homecoming and you had just gotten to the school. Your mom dropped you off, telling you to call her when you needed to be picked up if one of your friends couldn't take you home. You kissed her cheek before getting out of the car and walking inside the building, heading to the gym.

A few people stopped you along the way to tell you they loved your dress or that you looked incredible and while you appreciated all the compliments, you'd be lying if you said you didn't wish they were coming from Ryan.

It was a total cliché, honestly – the popular girl having a crush on the nerdy boy in her math class – but you just can't help who you like. Of course, you'd liked Ryan ever since middle school – the time when no one even so much as bothered to learn your name.

You didn't know what happened between 8th grade and now, but you'd gradually become part of the popular crowd in high school. Apparently, you just happened to befriend the right people when you were a freshman, and they just naturally accepted you as one of the popular girls – not that you fit that title at all.

The popular girls in your school were generally very nice, but a few of them – the few you happened to be friends with – weren't. You simply elected to ignore it, however – you'd been a nobody for so long, and you definitely didn't want to go back to that in your last few months of school.

Anyway, back to the dance.

You were sitting at one of the tables near the refreshments, your finger tracing the rim of the empty cup beside you. You hadn't done much dancing – only going up when your two friends forced you because they knew the songs were some of your favorites. But after that, you went back to your table, silently people-watching.