Matt was halfway through solving a practice problem when a shadow fell over his desk.

He looked up, already knowing who it was before he saw her face.

She had that kind of presence—bright, effortless, always moving like she was late to something fun. And now, for some reason, she was standing in front of him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice casual but her eyes scanning his notebook. “You’re good at this stuff, right?”

Matt blinked. “Um… y- yeah.”

She shifted her binder to her other arm and gave him a quick, almost shy smile. “I kinda need help. I’ve been staring at this worksheet for, like, twenty minutes and it still looks like another language.”

He glanced at the paper in her hand. It was easy. For him, at I least.

But he didn’t say that.

“You think you could maybe help me figure it out?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Matt’s mouth went dry.

“I- Uh-, …Sure,” he said.

And just like that, she pulled out the chair beside him.