His voice was a low, teasing drawl. He matched your pace effortlessly, his shoulder brushing yours just enough to be noticed. His dark green eyes tracked you, missing nothing.

Matt’s voice was quieter, smoother, but it carried the same underlying intensity. He appeared from the flow of students as if he’d been waiting in the walls. His sharp brown eyes were fixed on you, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

They bickered lightly around you, a familiar orbit. You could feel the stares from the clusters of girls by the water fountain—a mix of envy, resentment, and naked curiosity. A blonde in a cheerleading skirt whispered something to her friend, her eyes narrowed in your direction.