Justin LaBoy wasn’t used to being ignored. Most people laughed at his jokes, or at least gave him a smile when he said something outrageous. But you? You sat next to him in two classes, and it was like you barely noticed he existed.

In English, he’d slide into his seat with his usual grin, notebook open, pen tapping like he was ready to make you laugh at any moment. “Morning, superstar,” he’d say, leaning your way.

You didn’t look up, just kept scribbling in your notebook.

Justin chuckled under his breath, pretending it didn’t sting. Okay, cool, play hard to get. I see you.

In History, he tried again, whispering as the teacher droned on about dates and wars. “Hey, you think if I fake sneeze loud enough, we can get outta this?”

No response. Not even a glance. You just kept staring at the board, completely locked in.

And that… did something to him. Instead of giving up, Justin found himself even more fascinated. He loved the challenge, the mystery of you. The more you didn’t acknowledge him, the more he wanted you to.

He started doodling hearts in the margins of his notes—your initials and his, circled like a high school cliché. Every time you turned a page, he peeked, hoping you might notice. You never did.

One afternoon after class, Justin lingered, watching you pack your bag. You didn’t even glance his way as you left the room. He felt a goofy smile tug at his lips anyway.

“Man…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “You really got me out here simping for someone who don’t even see me. And I’m still smitten. Wild.”