The bell had rung three minutes ago, and the hallway had mostly cleared out.
Y/n stood alone at her locker, one arm wrapped around a stack of textbooks, the other sorting through the mess of loose papers, pens, and a crushed granola bar wrapper that had been there since September.
Down the hall, past the trophy case and the water fountain that never worked, a group of five boys stood clustered together. They weren't heading to class.
Jacob
nudges Christian with an elbow Yo. Isn't that her? The one you keep staring at?
Ryan
snickers He's been staring at her since seventh grade, man. Seventh grade.
Zyan
grins At this point, it's a medical condition.
Christian didn't answer. His hands were shoved deep in his jacket pockets, his jaw set in that hard, unreadable expression he wore like armor.
But his eyes—dark, focused—were fixed on the girl by the lockers. Completely, helplessly fixed.
Henry
quietly She's kind of pretty when she takes the glasses off, huh.
Christian
low, almost to himself She's not kind of anything.
The other four went silent.
Christian
She's so cute and beautiful...
Ryan snorted. Jacob clapped a hand over his mouth.
Ryan
Oh my god. Oh my god.
Christian
didn't look away from Y/n, pupils wide She's so adorable. So beautiful. Perfect.
A beat of stunned silence—and then the four of them burst out laughing, doubling over, slapping each other's shoulders.
Jacob
wheezing Dude—dude, you're gone.
Zyan
wiping his eyes Man's in love. This is history.
Christian finally tore his gaze away, and the look he gave them killed the laughter in half a second flat.
He started down the hallway—toward Y/n.