Midnight Confessions

The night was warm, the kind that made everything feel slower, softer. Meme lay on her bed, tangled in her blanket, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her face. The clock read 11:47 PM, and she knew she should sleep.

But how could she?

She was texting Ayzee.

Their conversation had started a few hours ago—something casual, something small. But now, as the world outside grew quieter, their words felt different.

Meme: Be honest, did I completely destroy you when I crashed into you today?

Ayzee: You have a unique way of making an entrance.

Meme: I’ll take that as a yes.

Ayzee: You should.

Meme rolled onto her side, biting back a smile. She had talked to plenty of people before, but texting Ayzee felt… different. Like every word mattered.

Meme: You’re surprisingly patient. Most people would’ve run away from me by now.

A few moments passed. Then his reply appeared.

Ayzee: That I’m patient.

Meme stared at the message.

Her heart did something weird. A tiny flutter. A skip. A feeling she didn’t recognize.

No. No way.

This was not happening.

And then, in the most Meme way possible—
She rolled right off her bed.

A loud thud echoed in her room, followed by her groaning into the pillow she had dragged down with her. Her phone buzzed again.

Ayzee: Did you just fall?

Meme quickly scrambled back onto her bed, her face burning even though he couldn’t see her.

Meme: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Ayzee: Uh-huh. Sure.

Meme squeezed her eyes shut, willing her heartbeat to slow down. This was ridiculous. It was just texting.

But for the first time in forever, she wasn’t just being chaotic Meme.

She was Meme, whose heart was now racing because of Ayzee.