Reuniting with Jason, my high school crush, felt like a rom-com dream. I was the shy, nerdy girl back then—glasses, braces, buried in books. Jason? The charming, popular football star who didn’t even know I existed. Fast forward years later, I’ve transformed—successful career, new confidence, and not a trace of the old me. So, when we ran into each other at the grocery store and he asked me to dinner, I couldn’t believe it.

We met at a fancy restaurant, and at first, it was fun catching up. But soon, I noticed Jason still lived in his high school glory days. The conversation was shallow, and when I returned from the restroom, I caught him placing a hair on my plate. “Watch this,” he smirked, then loudly complained to the waitress to get the meal comped. I was stunned. He laughed it off, bragging, “Promoter life doesn’t pay much—this trick always works.”

The charm had vanished. I forced a goodbye, but as soon as I got home, I blocked his number. The Jason I once idolized had become a grown man still playing childish games. I couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The next day, I told my friend Mia, who burst into disbelief. “You dodged a bullet,” she said. And she was right. That date reminded me how far I’d come—and just how much I’d outgrown the fantasy of my teenage crush.