"Alex," he said again, this time after the "Hi."
His voice was smooth, calm, and confident—the kind that made everything else fade for a second.
Lynn blinked, surprised he'd said more.
"I'm Lynn," she replied, just as steady.
"Cool name."
He walked away after that. No drawn-out conversation. No hesitation. Just like that, he vanished into the crowd—leaving her heart racing
Lynn wasn't obsessed. Not exactly.
But the next day, she arrived earlier than usual, just to see where he sat. He was there again—window seat, air of mystery still intact.
When Ms. Harper asked them to pair up for a new poetry assignment, Lynn didn't wait.
She stood, walked straight to him, and said, "We're partners."
He raised a brow, amused. "We are now."
And just like that, her heart made room for something new.
They met in the library after school. Alex smelled faintly of pine and old paper, and it was stupid how Lynn noticed that.
They read poetry, dissected metaphors, but the real tension wasn't in the books. It was in the way their knees almost touched under the table.
"So, what do you think of love poems?" she asked, acting casual.
He looked up slowly. "They only work if they're honest."
"Are you honest?" she challenged.
"With most people?" He leaned in just a bit. "Not always."
"With you?" he added after a beat. "Maybe."
The fire alarm blared during third period. Everyone spilled into the courtyard, annoyed.
Lynn found herself beside Alex in the crowd, and for once, the world handed her a moment instead of making her chase it.
"Still pretending you don't notice me watching you?" she teased.
"I'm not pretending," he replied. "I like it."
It wasn't the words—it was the way he said them. Bold. Real.
She didn't know whether to punch him or kiss him.
Instead, she laughed.
He watched her like she was a sunrise.
And she realized, maybe she wasn't the only one falling.