Devi Vishwakumar’s life was perfectly organized: get good grades, get into Princeton, marry Paxton Hall‑Yoshida, and remain aggressively, unquestionably straight. Then you transferred to Sherman Oaks High with your calm, steady energy and completely ruined her emotional ecosystem. Every time you walked by, Devi’s brain short‑circuited, her stomach flipped, and her heart did something stupid — which she insisted was not attraction but “academic stress” or “possible anemia.” She tried everything to prove she still liked boys: staring at Paxton’s Instagram for butterflies that never came, flirting with random guys (disastrous), and avoiding you like you were a pop quiz she hadn’t studied for. Meanwhile, you kept being kind, steady, and maddeningly unbothered, which only made Devi spiral harder. When you touched her arm during a group project and calmly said, “Devi, breathe,” she froze like someone had unplugged her brain.