Renae grew up in a Christian home where certain principles were instilled in her. Like other teenagers, she too had natural desires, but she fought hard against some of them. One wonders, though—was it her principles or simply shyness?
She was an athlete at her high school and lived on campus, as traveling daily would have been hectic. Training twice per day—early mornings and afternoons after school—was her routine. However, balancing athletics and academics was challenging. After afternoon training, she had to attend “Prep,” where she completed homework and studied.
After a year of hard work and dedication, Renae wanted more. Her life felt incomplete. It was no surprise, then, that her attention shifted to Bramwell, the school’s star athlete, who was one year her senior.
Renae couldn’t explain what drew her to him, but she knew she now looked forward to training, no matter how long or tedious. She trained harder than her teammates, hoping Bramwell would one day notice and say, “Girl, I admire the way you’ve been training lately.” Unfortunately, her feelings were unrequited. Bramwell had no idea that two special eyes were watching his every move—the chocolate-brown eyes that noticed every frown and every beautiful laugh revealing pearly white teeth.
He didn’t live on campus but commuted daily, so most mornings Renae sat on her dorm balcony just to see him saunter casually into the schoolyard. He was always early, perhaps because the bus ran only every two or three hours. He always carried his instrument for Technical Drawing, even on days when he didn’t have that class. Yes, she noticed even that.
Her feelings grew stronger each day, becoming almost unbearable. She confided in her friend Marion, begging her not to tell anyone.
Another agonizing year passed, with Renae secretly admiring Bramwell while he remained clueless. Every time he spoke to another girl, jealousy burned in her heart.
In her third year, Renae had an extraordinary experience. During the school’s annual sports day, she competed in almost every event. By day’s end, she was crowned Champion Girl—and standing beside her was Bramwell, the Champion Boy. During the trophy presentation, she could hardly contain her ecstasy, which soared when they posed for a photo together. It was the closest they had ever been. She wished the day would never end. She wished he would congratulate her, but his attention was elsewhere.
After the ceremony, while Renae was lost in love, Bramwell didn’t even glance her way. Being crowned Champion Girl meant nothing compared to being near her crush. She cherished that moment as though it would be the only time they’d ever be that close.
As time passed, she continued to admire him secretly, making sure no one noticed. Marion teased her occasionally, calling her “Mrs. Bramwell.”
Bramwell graduated before Renae. She attended the ceremony, determined to see him one last time. She watched him march with his partner, groove to the graduation song, and receive a prize for good sportsmanship. She applauded the loudest. Afterward, he mingled with friends, taking pictures, while Renae longed for a photo with him. It never happened—only in her imagination. She watched him leave for prom while she returned to her dorm.
With Bramwell gone, Renae faced her final year without him. His absence hurt, and it showed in her training. After graduation, she moved on—furthering her studies, starting a family, and building a career. She forgot about her high school crush, realizing it was just that—a crush.
Years later, while buying food at a restaurant, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she was shocked to see Bramwell. After paying, she walked over, and they began to talk. Her heart didn’t race; experience and maturity had erased the old feelings. It was their first real conversation, and she boldly confessed her teenage crush. Surprisingly, he laughed and admitted he had liked her too.
They reminisced about high school until they parted ways—no exchange of contacts, no lingering interest. After all, it had only ever been a high school crush.
