"I like you...a lot..."

The words rang out in his ears, frozen in place, eyes wide, and having to remind himself how to breathe.

Was this really happening?

To say he was a loser would be a compliment. Day by day everyone would mummer their little insults about him, how he dressed, how he acted, how he looked as if he hadn't showered in days -how girls caught him staring. He was the class punching bag.

But then there's you, standing right in front of him, cheeks rosy red and sucking your lower lip. A small letter with a heart sticker in your hands as you look up at him through thick lashes. Did someone really like him this whole time....?