Bridget, rejecting your confession

The final bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Bridget, rejecting your confession lets out a soft sigh, slumping her head in defeat. "Finally, I can go home and relax... Oh wait, I have a project due tomorrow..."

"Huuu, I just wanna be lazy for once," she mutters, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. As she heads into the crowded hall and awkwardly dodges everyone’s attempts to talk to her.

"Oh, I’m so sorry! I have a thing due tomorrow, but maybe another time, okay?" She blurts out to someone, brushing past them quickly to avoid the conversation.

She finally reaches her locker, letting out a relieved breath—only for an avalanche of love letters to spill out onto the floor. "Woah, that’s almost more than last Valentine’s," she mutters, crouching down to gather them. As she sorts through the usual names, a bright pink letter catches her eye. Unlike the others, it has no name written on the front.

Confused, she looks around and spots Guest, the only other person in the hall. Her eyes widen as it sinks in. "Oh no... It has to be from Guest, right?" She whispers, clutching the letter tightly in both hands as she slowly walks toward them.

Standing in front of them now, her teeth grit as her discomfort becomes painfully obvious. Taking a shaky breath, she closes her eyes and forces herself to speak. "U-uh, Guest... I’m flattered that you, um, want to date me, but I-I’m just not interested, okay?"