First Confession

It wasn’t just that Sophia liked being around Daniel — it was that she needed to be.

She told herself it was because he was fun to watch — the way he talked, laughed, moved through life like everything came easy to him. He had this effortless charm, this magnetic energy that made everyone gravitate toward him. He could walk into a room full of strangers and leave with a group of new friends. That kind of confidence fascinated her in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

But deep down, she knew the truth: she just wanted to be near him.

Not for his jokes, not for his stories, not even for the way he made other people laugh.

Just… him.

The sound of his voice.

The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

The way he never seemed to notice how much she watched him.

So when he stayed over at their house during breaks from college, she made sure she was always nearby — quietly folding his laundry, refilling his coffee without being asked, or cleaning up after him without complaint.

It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him — okay, maybe she was.

But more than that, it was the simple fact that she liked doing things for him. It made her feel close to him, even if only in small ways. She’d catch herself walking past his room just to see if the door was open. She’d linger in the kitchen when he was making coffee, hoping he’d ask her something — anything — just so they could talk.

And every time he noticed her, even in the smallest way, her heart did that stupid little somersault.

“Soph, you don’t have to do that,” he’d say sometimes, catching her wiping crumbs off the table where he’d been eating.

She’d shrug, trying to look casual. “I’m already up.”

He’d smile, tousle her hair, and walk away.

And she’d stand there for a full minute afterward, heart pounding, replaying the touch like it meant something.

Because to her, it did.

To her, every brush of his fingers against her shoulder, every time he said her name, every glance he gave her — it all mattered.

Even if he didn’t know it.

Sometimes, Nathan would tease her about it.

“You’re like his little shadow,” he’d say, nudging her with his elbow. “You following him everywhere.”

She’d laugh it off. Smile. Roll her eyes.

But inside?

She didn’t want to be his shadow.

She wanted to be someone he looked at — really looked at.

Someone who existed in his world, not just on the edges of it.

Instead, every time she tried to impress him, he’d say things like, “Since when are you into math?” or “You’ve gotten smarter, Soph.”

Never, “You’ve gotten beautiful.”

Never, “I noticed how much you’ve changed.”

Just… “You’ve gotten smarter.”

Still, she kept showing up.

At breakfast, offering to make his favorite pancakes — even though she burned half of them and pretended it was “a learning process.”

At the library, pretending she needed help studying even when she didn’t — just so she could sit beside him and pretend she wasn’t memorizing every word he said.

At Nathan’s apartment, tidying up before he got there — making sure his favorite mug was clean, his jacket hung neatly by the door, and his favorite snacks were within reach.

Daniel never said anything about it.

Never thanked her.

Just smiled that easy smile of his and said, “You're too good to us, Soph.”

She hated that nickname.

Not because it was cute.

Because it reminded her that to him, she was still just Nathan’s little sister.

That phrase had followed her for years like a label she couldn’t peel off — the girl who tagged along, the one who didn’t belong in the same space as the rest of them.

And yet, she kept showing up anyway.

Even when he left again for school, she kept doing the same things — folding his hoodie, leaving snacks on the counter, cleaning his messes.

It was ridiculous, she knew.

She wasn’t his maid.

She wasn’t his servant.

She was just… Sophia.

Which was exactly the problem.

Her best friend Lena once caught her staring at a photo of Daniel on Nathan’s phone and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re never going to tell him, are you?”

Sophia had shaken her head slowly, her throat tight. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Lena sighed, crossing her arms. “Then maybe you should stop acting like you’re waiting for him.”

But Sophia couldn’t explain it.

It wasn’t that she was waiting.

It was that she wanted to be seen.

And until that happened, she wasn’t ready to stop hoping.

She wasn’t ready to stop believing that maybe — just maybe — one day, he’d look at her the way he looked at other girls.

Not as a kid.

Not as Nathan’s sister.

But as someone worth noticing.

Worth remembering.

Worth wanting.

Until then, she’d keep showing up.

Keep making pancakes.

Keep pretending she didn’t care when he called her Soph like it was nothing.

Like she was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing to her.

It was everything.

---

One afternoon, while helping clean up after lunch, she found herself alone in the kitchen with him. He was drying dishes, and she was folding napkins, the silence between them soft and unfamiliar.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing over.

She blinked. “Yeah.”

“You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet,” she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

He chuckled. “Not when you’re arguing with Nathan.”

She smiled a little, but it faded quickly.

She wanted to tell him. Just once, say the words out loud so he couldn’t miss them.

But what if he laughed?

What if he changed the way he treated her — or worse, stopped treating her like family altogether?

She couldn’t risk it.

So instead, she whispered, “I just… like listening to you talk.”

Daniel paused mid-wipe, meeting her eyes for a beat too long.

Then he smiled — soft, thoughtful.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you don’t always have to wait for people to notice you.”

Her breath caught.

Did he know?

Had he seen the way she looked at him?

Before she could ask, he added, “You should speak up more. You’ve got a good voice.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

Sophia swallowed hard, nodding as she turned away before he could see the tears forming behind her eyes.

Because yes.

Maybe she did have a voice.

But would he ever really listen?

Would he ever really hear her?

She wasn’t sure.

All she knew was that no matter how many times she told herself to move on, to forget about him, to stop waiting — she couldn’t.

Because loving Daniel Harper wasn’t something she chose.

It was something she lived with.

Quietly.

Deeply.

Hopelessly.

And no amount of logic or reason could change that.