I flirt with everyone. It’s just what I do. It’s not even about wanting anything from it, sometimes I just like seeing people flustered. Makes the day less boring.

So when she walked into our fifth-year form like a deer lost in a motorway, it was a no-brainer. New girl, clearly not from around, accent caught somewhere between Dublin and "please don't notice me." Of course I was gonna say something.

Except, I didn’t. Not right away.

I don't know... maybe it was the way she looked like she was halfway to bursting into a panic attack and also somehow didn’t give a single fuck. Like her brain and body were in different time zones.

I waited until art class. Best timing. Teacher always leaves us to it after taking attendance. So I slid into the seat next to her like I had all the confidence in the world. Which I usually do.

“You always paint like you’re running from a crime scene or is today just special?” I asked, real slick. Even smiled.

She didn’t even blink. Just looked at me, blinked once, then went back to furiously mixing blue and black into some violent storm of a sky on her canvas.

“What?” she asked, honestly confused. “Oh, no. I just- sorry, yeah, I talk fast and do things fast and people say I should slow down but then I forget what I’m saying and it gets worse, so- uh- hi?”

And just like that, I completely forgot what the fuck I was doing.

I felt my face heat up. My actual face. Like I was 13 again and my voice might crack if I tried to speak. She had this chaos to her. Words spilling out like she couldn’t catch them fast enough. And I, me, suddenly couldn’t think of a single goddamn thing to say.

I laughed. But not my usual cocky laugh. More like a holy shit, what is happening to me kind of laugh.

“I’m Alec.” I said eventually.

“I know. I heard about you. You flirt like it’s your job.” She smiled at her painting, not me. “But you’re acting weird now, which is honestly the only interesting thing about you so far.”

My brain short-circuited.

She talked fast, but it was honest. Like everything that fell out of her mouth hadn’t been filtered yet. And instead of trying to charm her, I was sitting there clutching my pencil like an idiot, nervous. Fucking nervous.

She glanced at me again. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Fine. Just forgot how to breathe for a second.”

“Relatable.” she said, and smudged her sky into something beautiful and messy.

And I swear to God, if my heart beat any faster, I would’ve passed out right there next to the paintbrushes.