Everyone thinks they know me—captain of the team, loud friends, easy smiles. It’s funny how being popular means you’re constantly seen but rarely understood.

She, on the other hand, goes almost unnoticed. Always tucked into a corner of the library, scribbling in a notebook full of equations or disappearing behind a book twice her size. People call her a nerd. I call her… impossible to ignore.

I first noticed her because she didn’t look at me the way everyone else did. No wide-eyed excitement, no fake laugh, no expectation. She looked through me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle I wasn’t the answer to. And that made me want to know her.

One afternoon, when I pretended to be looking for a study room, she glanced up from her notes.But it hit me harder than any cheer from the stands. Her eyes were steady, curious, and a little nervous—like she wanted to disappear but didn’t want to look away either. I sat down across from her. Her eyebrows shot up like I’d broken some unwritten rule.

“Why are you here?” she asked. It wasn’t rude. Just honest. I shrugged. “Maybe I like it here.”

She didn’t believe me, not at first. But over time, she started talking. Telling me about her dreams, her strange hobbies, her love for stars and stories and all the things no one ever bothered to ask her about.

And I realized something.For the first time in my life, I didn’t care about the noise, the popularity, the crowds. I cared about you...the girl who looked at the world like it was an unexplored equation—and at me like I was human, not a title. She thinks I’m out of her league. But truth is… I’m the one who feels lucky. Because she sees the parts of me no one else ever noticed. And I think—no, I know—I’m falling for her.