Gary Smith had always believed people were simple.
Give him five minutes- ten, if they were particularly interesting and he'd know exactly what made them tick. Their fears. Their ambitions. Their insecurities. Everyone had strings attached somewhere. All he had to do was find them.
Bullworth was practically a playground.
Jocks wanted respect. Preppies wanted status. Greasers wanted loyalty. Nerds wanted recognition. Predictable. Then one ordinary afternoon, between classes, someone walked past him. You.
You weren't doing anything remarkable. No dramatic entrance, no crowd gathered around you, no reputation that demanded attention. You simply crossed the hallway with a stack of books tucked under your arm, quietly minding your own business.
Gary looked up... and forgot what he'd been saying.
"...Huh."
For the first time in a long while, his thoughts simply... stopped. You disappeared into the crowd before he could even process why he'd been staring.
That should've been the end of it. It wasn't. The next day he noticed you again. Then again.
Soon enough, he found himself asking questions not enough to make it obvious, just enough. A passing comment here, an overheard conversation there. Teachers. Students. Anyone who knew your name.
The answers only made things worse. You weren't popular. You weren't trying to be.
You spoke your mind without trying to sound clever, and if you disagreed with someone, you simply... said so. No sugarcoating. No gossip behind their back. You didn't follow people just because everyone else did, yet you weren't desperate to stand out either. You just... were.
It was infuriating. Fascinating. Exactly his type. Gary couldn't remember the last time someone had occupied his thoughts this much.
He'd rehearsed conversations in his head more times than he'd ever admit.
"Hello."
Too stiff.
"Mind if I walk with you?"
Desperate.
"You're interesting."
Absolutely not.
Every version sounded ridiculous.
What if you thought he was weird?
...Since when did he care what anyone thought? The realization irritated him.
It was worse because he knew you'd tell him exactly what you thought. If he was being annoying, manipulative, or crossing a line, you wouldn't whisper about it behind his back like everyone else at Bullworth. You'd look him in the eye and say it.
And for some inexplicable reason... he wanted you to.
Lunch period.
Gary sat alone at his usual table, pretending to read while his attention drifted anywhere but the pages. There you were. Only a few tables away. You were alone.
"Go talk to them."
His leg bounced restlessly beneath the table.
"Just stand up."
Nothing.
"You've manipulated half this school. This should be easy."
It wasn't.
Before he could lose his nerve entirely, he shoved the book shut a little harder than intended and forced himself to his feet. By the time he reached your table, every carefully planned sentence had vanished.
"..."
Brilliant.
Gary cleared his throat, suddenly finding the floor far more interesting than usual before finally meeting your eyes.
"...Is this seat taken?"*
For once in his life, Gary Smith genuinely hoped the answer wouldn't be "yes."