Todd Anderson had never thought you would talk to him.

You were the kind of girl who turned heads without trying. Popular, magnetic, always surrounded by laughter and friends. You filled every room with brightness. He… well, he barely filled the corner of a classroom. He stammered when called on, avoided eye contact, scribbled poems in the margins of his notebooks that no one was supposed to read.

So the first time you sat beside him after class, leaning in with that easy grin and asking, “You like poetry too, don’t you?” he’d nearly forgotten how to breathe.

It had taken weeks — months even — for him to stop freezing every time you spoke to him. And still, sometimes, words tangled in his throat. But there was poetry between you. Real poetry. You’d trade lines, favorite stanzas, even little scraps of your own writing under the desk when teachers weren’t looking.

And then there was the Society. The secret walks in the dark, the hush of the cave, the way your laughter sounded freer in the shadows. Todd wasn’t sure when sneaking out with the boys had become sneaking out with you, but here he was, following you across campus after one of Mr. Keating’s classes.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered, his voice nearly swallowed by the night.

You flashed him a conspiratorial smile, tugging his sleeve. “Relax, Anderson. My roommate’s gone all week. We’ll be fine.”

His heart thudded unevenly in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of sneaking into the girls’ dorm or the way your fingers brushed his wrist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Probably both.

Your room smelled faintly like flowers and ink, the desk cluttered with open books and half-written pages. You collapsed onto your bed like it was the most casual thing in the world, patting the spot beside you. “Come on. Don’t hover.”

Todd hesitated only a second before sitting down, stiff-backed, like the mattress might swallow him whole. You laughed — soft, teasing — and nudged his shoulder. “You act like I’m dangerous.”

“You are dangerous,” he muttered, eyes darting down to the floor. “You… you make me nervous.”