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“Good night, Golfie,” Tennis Ball said with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to his small girlfriend’s forehead.
Golf Ball blushed. After years of friendship, they had finally started dating. When they announced their relationship, no one was surprised—except for Golf Ball herself. It irritated her to no end. She was supposed to be the smartest person in the room, yet somehow, everyone had learned of their feelings for each other before she did. Test Tube had reassured her that it was common for others to notice things like that before the people involved, but it still gnawed at her pride.
As their relationship grew, Tennis Ball became more openly affectionate. To anyone else, his casual requests to hold hands or cuddle would have seemed completely normal. But to Golf Ball, they felt like monumental tasks. She wasn’t naive or innocent—she just wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, and she hated how much it flustered her. She loved holding Tennis Ball’s hand but hated how flustered it made her. She adored his kisses but struggled to ask for them. It was frustrating, feeling so inexperienced with something that should be simple.
Tonight, she decided to take action. She wanted to turn the tables, to make Tennis Ball feel just as flustered as he always made her. Recalling something she had seen Test Tube do with her boyfriend, Fan, she resolved to try it herself.
“TB,” Golf Ball muttered, motioning him down.
Tennis Ball leaned down obligingly, his face now just inches from hers.
That was a mistake. His closeness made her heart race, and she had to look away to steady herself. “G-get home safe,” she stammered before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
As soon as she pulled back, her entire body tensed. She averted her gaze, already regretting how embarrassed she felt. But when Tennis Ball didn’t respond, curiosity got the best of her. She glanced up.
Tennis Ball hadn’t moved. He remained frozen in place, still bent down, his entire face flushed red. A grin tugged at her lips. Success!
After a beat, Tennis Ball blinked, then let out a breathy chuckle. Golf Ball, still exhilarated by her victory, laughed with him. It wasn’t much compared to all the affection he showered her with, but it was something.
“I love you, Golfie,” he said, smiling as he waved goodbye.
She waved back, still riding the high of her triumph—until a thought struck her.
Wait.
Her smile faded. Her brain caught up. He just said—
“T-TB, you—” she started, eyes widening.
Tennis Ball, who had just turned his back to walk away, stopped dead in his tracks. His whole body went rigid.
Suddenly, he spun around, a little too quickly. “Later!” he blurted out. “I’ll see you later, Golfie!”
And then he speed-walked backward, awkwardly shooting finger guns at her.
Golf Ball stood there, utterly speechless, watching him maintain stiff eye contact as he reached for the stairwell door. He fumbled with the handle, nearly missing it before slipping inside.
She remained frozen in her doorway for a while, staring at the spot where he had been.
Finally, she stepped back inside and leaned against the door, sliding down to the floor as the moment replayed in her head.
Her face grew hotter.
She groaned, covering it with her hands.
“Love… me…” she sighed.
The next day, Golf Ball couldn’t focus. No matter what she did, her mind kept looping back to those words.
"I love you, Golfie."
He had said it so easily, so casually—like it was something he told her all the time. Or something he always thought about. What was she supposed to do now?
"Tell him you love him too!" Test Tube’s voice rang from the other side of the phone.
Golf Ball had reluctantly called her for advice. It wasn’t that she disliked talking to Test Tube—she just hated that she needed help with something like this. The answer seemed so simple. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself?
"You do love him, don’t you?" Test Tube pressed.
"Of course, I—"
She stopped short, realizing how quickly she had nearly blurted it out. Her face heated up, and she felt ridiculous for getting so flustered over something she had always known deep down.
Thinking back, her feelings for Tennis Ball had been there long before they started dating. He had always been by her side—one of the only people who wanted to be around her when they were younger. And one of the few who could keep up with her intellect.
She swallowed, forcing herself to say it properly this time. "Y-yeah, I do."
"Hmm? What was that?" Test Tube teased.
"I do," Golf Ball said more firmly.
"Still can’t hear you~"
"I LOVE HIM, OK?!" Golf Ball nearly shouted.
The moment the words left her mouth, a knock sounded at her door.
Her breath hitched.
Startled, she fumbled her phone, letting it fall to the floor.
"Golf Ball? It’s me," came a familiar voice from the other side.
Tennis Ball.
She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay calm. But the second she took a step forward, the words echoed in her head again.
"I love you, Golfie."
Her feet froze.
"Hello? GB? You still there?" Test Tube’s voice crackled from the phone, but Golf Ball barely heard her.
Another knock. "I’m coming in," Tennis Ball called.
The doorknob jiggled. He’s using the spare key.
Panic flared in her chest. She rushed forward, reaching for the handle, but just as she did, the door swung open on its own.
Tennis Ball stepped inside, looking at her with soft concern. “Sorry for barging in,” he said. “I just really need to talk to you about yesterday.”
Golf Ball stiffened. “Yesterday,” she echoed. Tennis Ball’s words flashed through Golf Ball’s head again, ‘I love you, Golfie.’
Tennis Ball took a step forward, gently taking her hand in his.
"I’m sorry if we’re moving too fast," he said, his voice careful.
We’re not, Golf Ball thought.
"But you should know that I do love you."
I love you too, she wanted to say.
"You don’t have to say you feel the same if you’re not ready—"
"No!" The word burst out of her.
Tennis Ball blinked in surprise.
"I… I, um…" Golf Ball met his eyes for a fleeting second before looking away, gripping his hand tighter as frustration bubbled up inside her.
She knew what she wanted to say.
She wanted to say it.
So why couldn’t she?
"Golf Ball?" Tennis Ball asked softly.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She needed an out.
"I NEED TO SEE TEST TUBE!"
And before Tennis Ball could react, she yanked her hand away and bolted out the door.
“Golf Ball.”
“I know,” Golf Ball groaned.
She really had gone to see Test Tube, who apparently had heard every word. Test Tube had been listening through the phone that Golf Ball never picked up off the floor. And of course, when Golf Ball arrived, she got an earful from her. Now, here she was—sulking in Test Tube’s lab, arms crossed in frustration.
“Why is it so hard to say three simple words?” she muttered.
Test Tube sighed. “I get it. It was difficult for Fan to confess his feelings too.”
“Really?” Golf Ball asked, a spark of hope in her voice.
“Oh, Yeah! Fan-”
The person in question burst into the room. “Hi, Test Tube,” Fan beamed. He strode over to his girlfriend, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I love you!”
Golf Ball let out a loud groan. Test Tube facepalmed between giggles.
“Huh? Oh. Hi Golf Ball!” Fan not so discreetly leaned over to Test Tube, whispering, “What’s up with her?”
Test Tube didn’t bother lowering her voice. “Tennis Ball told her he loves her. She loves him too, but she’s too nervous to tell him.”
“TEST TUBE!” Golf Ball shot up, glaring. “Don’t just tell people that!”
“I’m not people,” Fan interjected, sliding into the seat beside her, “I’m someone who’s been in your exact situation.”
“Yes, and it was quite annoying,” Test Tube added, rolling her eyes.
Fan quickly shushed her. “If you need help, ask me anything!”
Golf Ball scowled. Asking Test Tube for help was already embarrassing, but at least they were intellectual equals. Fan, however, was a different story. He was, in her mind, an idiot. And yet… she wanted to fix this love problem as soon as possible.
She sighed. “Fine. How did you do it?”
Fan smirked. "Picture this, Golfster—"
"Don’t call me that."
"You’re watching New Year’s fireworks with the most beautiful woman in the world on your arm."
Test Tube snorted at his dramatic tone but didn’t interrupt.
"She looks at you with that glint in her eye—the one that makes your heart melt. And then, she leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she says… ‘I love you.’
"You freeze. Your breath catches. Because for the first time, you realize how much those words mean. How much she means."
Fan placed a hand over his heart for dramatic effect.
"She hesitates, waiting for you to say something, anything, but all you can do is stare. You think about every moment, every laugh, every time she’s made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. And suddenly, the words spill out—'I love you too.'"
He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "She smiles. She kisses you. And just like that... everything falls into place."
Silence.
Golf Ball and Test Tube just stared at him.
Finally, Golf Ball broke the quiet. "...What the hell was that?"
Fan blinked. "What do you mean? That was my story!"
"That’s not how that happened," Test Tube cut in.
Fan scoffed. "I simplified it a little—"
“What happened?” Golfball asked, talking over Fan.
Test Tube smirked, turning to her boyfriend. "That night, I poured my heart out to Fan… and do you know what he said?"
Golf Ball raised an eyebrow.
"He just looked at me and went, ‘Same.’"
Golf Ball burst into laughter.
"Test Tube!" Fan whined. "You promised you wouldn’t tell people that part!"
“I’m not people,” Golf Ball teased, mimicking Fan’s earlier words, “I’m someone that’s had your same problem.”
“Don’t be so quick to mock him, GB,” Test Tube grinned, “At least Fan said something.”
Golf Ball froze.
Fan leaned in curiously. "Wait… what did you say?"
"Oh, just this morning—"
Golf Ball launched across the table, slapping her hands over Test Tube’s mouth.
"NO, NO, NO!!!" she shrieked.
Test Tube just laughed behind her hands. "Okay, okay! I won’t tell him. In front of you."
Golf Ball groaned, sliding back into her seat in defeat.
Fan, still smirking, leaned forward. "The point of my story, Golfster—"
"I said don’t call me that."
"—is that you should think about why you love Tennis Ball. Every reason, every little thing about him that makes your chest feel all warm and fuzzy. Let those feelings build up. And then, when you can’t hold it in anymore, just say it! Let it explode into the most passionate confession ever!" He folded his arms, looking smug. "It’s pretty much a science."
Golf Ball gave him a flat look. "It’s not."
But as she sat there, she couldn’t help but think back to that morning. All the reasons she loved Tennis Ball.
For starters, she liked that he was smart. They could talk for hours about the uses of yoylite. He always prioritized her projects over his own and never got frustrated when she snapped at him over an experiment failing. He was patient, so patient, and he showed his affection so easily—without hesitation, without fear.
Unlike her.
“I…”
Fan and Test Tube leaned in expecting, wanting to hear her words.
“I…”
I love him, she thought.
I love him so much, she thought.
“I can’t do it.”
The pair fell back into their seats, disappointed
“I know I should just say it,” she stood up and began pacing. “I have the words in my head, but I can’t turn them into words. There has to be an easier way.”
“I thought saying the words was the easiest way,” Fan mumbled.
Golf Ball thought for a moment. Then, her eyes lit up. She grabbed a marker and began writing on a whiteboard.
“If I can’t say it, then I need a device that can project my thoughts so they can be heard.”
Immediately, her face brightened. “My mutual mind reader!”
“You have a mutual…” Fan began.
“Mind reader!?” Test Tube finished, excited.
“Yes! I made it years ago. Oh, wait…”
“What?” Test Tube asked.
“I think I lent it to Pin, who let Leafy borrow it, who gave it to Flower, who let Gelatin use it… who broke it.”
“Aw, man! I wanted to study it,” Test Tube pouted.
“Well, I could make another. If you let me use your lab.”
Before Test Tube could jump at the offer, Fan cut in. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Golf Ball. I think Tennis Ball would rather hear the words from your mouth and not your mind.”
Test Tube hesitated. “Yeah… You should talk to Tennis Ball about this—”
“I’ll let you help build it.”
Test Tube’s resistance immediately crumbled. “Of course you can use my lab!”
Golf Ball smirked, ignoring Fan’s concerned look.
“Then let’s get started.”
Golf Ball methodically explained the mechanics of her old device to Test Tube. It had been designed to scan the brain waves of both the user and the target, linking them in a way that allowed the user to hear the target’s thoughts—and, for a brief moment, the target could hear the user’s in return.
But that wasn’t what she wanted this time.
“The new version will only project the user’s thoughts into the target’s mind,” she clarified, tapping the whiteboard. “No back-and-forth. Just a direct message.”
Test Tube frowned slightly. “Why not just rebuild the original?”
“Because that would take too long.” Golf Ball crossed her arms. “If we streamline the process, we can finish this tonight—if we pull an all-nighter.”
Test Tube gave her a skeptical look. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.” A pause. “…Maybe.”
She turned back to the whiteboard, deep in thought. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t dare rush a project like this, especially one involving neural transmissions. But these weren’t normal circumstances. She had to tell Tennis Ball how she felt. In her own way.
As she mulled over the design, her gaze drifted around the lab, landing on various gadgets scattered across the room. Her eyes gleamed with possibility.
“We could cut down the build time by salvaging parts from your inventions.”
Test Tube followed her line of sight, her expression shifting uncomfortably. “We can use some of them,” she allowed, hesitant. “But nothing I might need again.”
Golf Ball wasted no time. She moved to a nearby counter and picked up a sleek black bowtie with a tiny button in the center.
Test Tube’s eyes widened. “Not the InvisiBow!” she yelped. “I just got that back from Taco!”
Golf Ball sighed, disappointed. “Fine.”
Undeterred, she continued scanning the lab, pointing at various devices and quizzing Test Tube about their functions, gauging their usefulness. Some were off-limits, some were fair game. Eventually, they had gathered enough components, and the real work began.
It felt… different.
Golf Ball was used to working alone or with Tennis Ball—who, more often than not, didn’t even need instructions. He always seemed to anticipate what she needed, like he could already read her mind.
“Golf Ball, what do you need me to do?” Test Tube asked, waiting for direction.
For a split second, Golf Ball hesitated. She was so accustomed to the unspoken synergy that having to verbalize her thoughts threw her off. But as she started working, her mood gradually lifted.
She could already imagine Tennis Ball’s reaction. He’d probably say something like, Oh wow, Golf Ball. You made this in one day? The thought made her smile.
That excitement fueled her through the long hours. Even as exhaustion crept in, she powered through, determined to see the project to completion. Test Tube’s coffee maker helped.
Finally, as she tightened the last screw, her vision blurred. The weight of the all-nighter hit her like a truck.
And before she could even admire her work—
She passed out.
When Golf Ball woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she wasn’t in her bed. She was lying on Test Tube’s couch. Blinking groggily, she pushed herself up, her brain still sluggish from exhaustion. Dragging herself into the kitchen, she wordlessly made a cup of coffee, sipping it as she shuffled toward Test Tube’s room.
Once inside, she stared at Test Tube for a few seconds, her brain still catching up to reality. Then, without much thought, she reached out and started lightly batting at Test Tube’s face.
“Test Tube… Test Tube, wake up…”
Test Tube groaned in protest, shifting under the covers. “Mmm… five more minutes.”
“No, get up… we made…” Golf Ball trailed off, mind still foggy.
Then, as if the coffee had finally kicked in, her eyes widened.
“The Mind Projector!”
At the sound of the name, Test Tube’s grogginess vanished in an instant. She bolted upright.
“The Mind Projector!” she echoed, excitement sparking in her voice.
Their shouting jolted Fan awake from where he had been sleeping. He rubbed his eyes, looking between the two bouncing inventors with a mixture of confusion and exhaustion. "It’s way too early for this," he mumbled. "What are you guys yelling about?"
"The Mind Projector!" they shouted in unison, making him flinch.
The two bolted from the room and rushed toward Test Tube’s lab. They scanned the room, eyes darting around until they landed on their creation.
Sitting in the middle of the workspace was a device that looked like a high-tech hat—if the hat had been Frankensteined together from various pieces of mismatched technology. Their excitement dimmed for a second. It definitely wasn’t polished. But it looked functional, so Golf Ball didn’t let herself fret.
She stepped forward, inspecting the device, her fingers grazing over the haphazardly assembled components. As she studied their combined handiwork, Fan trudged in behind them, still half-asleep. He lazily leaned against Test Tube for support, barely holding himself up.
Test Tube turned to Golf Ball expectantly. “Well? What do you think?”
“I think we have to test it.” Golf Ball stated.
Test Tube’s eyes lit up. "I volunteer! I’ll be the user." She nudged Fan lightly. "Babe, can you be the target? All you have to do is sit and look pretty."
Fan, still groggy, gave a sluggish nod. "You’re the pretty one," he mumbled before slumping into the nearest chair.
Golf Ball got to work securing the headpiece onto Test Tube. As she adjusted the straps, she added nonchalantly, “Just so you know, there’s a slight chance this device will prevent you from ever thinking again.”
Test Tube hummed thoughtfully. “Eh. Anything in the name of science.”
"Flip this," Golf Ball instructed, pointing to a small switch on the side. "Then send any thought to Fan."
"Gotcha," Test Tube nodded. Test Tube flipped the switch and locked eyes with Fan, concentrating hard.
Fan jolted upright, eyes darting around the room in alarm before landing on Test Tube.
“Uh… hi?” he said hesitantly.
Test Tube grinned but didn’t break eye contact.
“Oh, Thanks! But you got these for me so-”
He cut himself off mid-sentence, his face going bright red.
“Test Tube!” he exclaimed, scandalized. “There’s a time and place for everything!”
Quickly, he jumped out of his seat and pulled the helmet off Test Tube’s head. Test Tube just smirked, clearly pleased with the results.
Fan let out a huff as he handed the device back to Golf Ball. “It works.”
Golf Ball’s grin widened. She reached to take the Mind Projector from him, but Fan’s grip lingered. She shot him an annoyed look.
“Just… think about what I said,” Fan murmured, his tone unusually serious.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Golf Ball replied dismissively, rolling her eyes. She gave the device a firm tug, finally prying it from his grasp. With the machine now securely in her hands, her grin returned full force. She hardly seemed to register Fan’s concern as she turned the device over, admiring it.
“I’m gonna go see Tennis Ball. Later, Test Tube.” And with that, she was out the door, already lost in her own plans.
Fan sighed, shaking his head as he watched her go.
Test Tube nudged him lightly. “It’ll be fine, Fan. Things always work out for them.”
Fan shot her a skeptical look. “If you say so.”
Then, after a pause, he cleared his throat and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “By the way… now that it’s just us…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is your offer from earlier still on the table, or…?”
“Not right now Fan,” Test Tube yawned, “I’d rather go back to sleep.”
Fan chuckled nervously, shifting his weight. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired too.”
“But…” Test Tube’s voice took on a teasing lilt as she leaned closer. “I might change my mind later.” She winked.
Fan’s face immediately flushed. “That’s… cool too,” he mumbled, failing to suppress a goofy smile.
Golf Ball felt lighter than air as she bounded up the stairs to her apartment, skipping steps in her excitement. A rare, almost giddy energy buzzed through her, making her movements quick and eager. When she reached her door, her hands fumbled with the keys, too impatient to work properly. She huffed, steadied herself, and tried again—finally, the lock clicked open.
She stepped inside and immediately called out, “Tennis Ball?”
No response. But she had a feeling. He’d been waiting for her.
She moved further in, scanning the room until her eyes landed on him, fast asleep on the couch.
For a moment, she just watched. He looked peaceful, his breathing slow and steady, arms loosely crossed over his chest. Something about it made her pause—made her want to let him be.
But only for a moment.
She grabbed his shoulder and shook him awake. “TB, wake up! I have a surprise for you.”
Tennis Ball groaned, stirring. “What…?” His voice was thick with sleep. He cracked one eye open, blinking up at her in a daze.
“I made something for you,” Golf Ball repeated, practically vibrating with anticipation.
That got him to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. “Golf Ball—wait, why’d—”
She didn’t let him finish. “Test Tube and I built this yesterday.” She held up the device, eager for his reaction.
Tennis Ball’s eyes flickered to it, his grogginess fading as he took in the unfamiliar gadget.
“You made that in one day?” His voice wasn’t impressed like she expected—it was flat, almost wary, like he didn’t understand why she’d do such a thing.
She frowned slightly. “I’ll show you.”
Golf Ball took a few steps back, strapping the device onto her head and flipping the switch. She turned back to him, focused, and projected her thoughts.
TB, can you hear me?
Tennis Ball blinked. “Yeah?”
A grin spread across her face. Excellent! This is a mind projector. It allows my thoughts to be transferred directly into your mind.
Tennis Ball’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow, you really made that in one day?”
She huffed with pride. “Yeah.”
“But still,” he tilted his head, clearly amused now, “why?”
Golf Ball’s energy stuttered for the first time. “R-right.” She took a deep breath and focused her thoughts again.
There’s something I want to tell you that I can’t say out loud, she admitted.
Tennis Ball straightened at that, his expression shifting to something more serious. “What is it?”
Golf Ball swallowed. It’s just that… She hesitated, her gaze flickering away from him. I love you. I love you a lot. It’s challenging for me to say out loud, but I love you.
A beat of silence.
Then—
“Golf Ball?”
Her breath caught. “Yeah!” she blurted, blushing. What will he say?
Tennis Ball blinked at her. “What were you gonna say?”
“Huh?”
“You started saying something, and then you stopped speaking. Like—you cut out.”
Her heart dropped. The realization hit her like a brick.
She had to look at him for the device to work. She had to face him and think about how much she loved him, knowing he could hear it.
That should have been easy. This was what she wanted.
But she still couldn’t do it.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze, trying again. I’m sorry, TB, she thought.
Tennis Ball startled. His eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet, rushing over to her. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?” His words came out too fast, like they were tripping over themselves. “You haven’t done anything,” he added, voice full of concern.
“That’s the problem!” Golf Ball snapped.
Tennis Ball flinched at her outburst, and immediately, she looked away. Her grip on the device tightened for a second before she ripped it off, holding it limply at her side. “I can’t do something so simple. Just say a few dumb words,” she muttered.
Tennis Ball exhaled, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.”
Golf Ball didn’t look up.
Tennis Ball hesitated for only a second before reaching for her hands, gripping them gently—just like he had yesterday.
She stiffened. Her face warmed.
“Golfie,” he murmured, soft and steady, “look at me.”
She did. Slowly.
His eyes were gentle, filled with patience and something else—something steady and sure. It soothed the buzzing in her head, but his closeness still made her squirm.
“I love you,” he said, smiling.
Her breath hitched. The words sent a shiver down her spine. Her hands instinctively jerked back, but Tennis Ball held firm, keeping her grounded.
“And I think you love me,” he continued. “You don’t have to tell me with your voice or your thoughts. You’ve already told me that you love me with your actions.” His thumbs brushed over her knuckles. “But whenever you can tell me with your words—I’ll be happy to hear it.”
Golf Ball exhaled, her shoulders relaxing just a little. She looked at him, really looked at him, and then nodded. “Okay.”
Then, slowly, she grinned.
She really did love Tennis Ball. And maybe, someday, she’d be able to tell him.