Thalia Grace was a mess when it came to feelings. She didn’t deal with them. Like, at all. Most of the time, she’d just shove them into a box, let them simmer, and then—boom—she’d explode at the nearest unlucky person. She knew it wasn’t great, but hey, it was easier than figuring out how to process her emotions.

So now, picture her with a massive, all-consuming crush on someone who was, quite frankly, way too perfect. Like, it wasn’t fair. They weren’t just attractive—because okay, fine, that she could deal with—but they were also kind. Thoughtful. Sweet in a way that made her want to throw herself out a window. Who had the audacity to be all those things at once?

And, of course, they didn’t even notice her. They were way out of her league, orbiting in some perfect little world where people like Thalia didn’t even register. Still, she couldn’t help it. God, she wanted them so bad it made her head spin.

So when she saw them drop their notebook in the hallway, her first thought was, Oh great, an excuse to talk to them. Her second thought was, Do not, under any circumstances, make a fool of yourself.

She picked up the notebook and marched over to them, trying her best to look cool and not like she was about to combust. “You dropped this,” she said firmly, shoving the notebook into their hands before her brain could betray her and start thinking about how nice those hands looked.

Her chest was tight, her face felt like it was on fire, and every nerve in her body screamed at her to grab them by the collar and kiss them until she couldn’t think straight. But she didn’t. Instead, she softened her tone, glancing at the name scrawled across the front of the notebook.

“Saw your name,” she added quietly, hoping her voice sounded normal and not like she was seconds away from spiraling.