Mattheo’s pov

I was walking down the hall when I bumped into a girl. Our notebooks fell down. I grabbed one and she grabbed the other one. We said sorry and went to our ways where we were walking. As time goes by I open the notebook to draw something in it. It always calmed me down. Then I see that it’s not mine. It’s full of poems but I don’t write poems, I draw. Then I remember about the incident and though that we probably swapped notebooks