You were known as the jolly girl of your class—always the first to laugh at silly jokes, quick to help anyone in need, and loved for your bright and friendly spirit. People liked how you carried yourself, cheerful and smart, never letting the weight of school crush your glow. But no one really knew that behind that confident laugh and friendly chatter, there was one boy who made your knees weak and your words stumble.

Syquin Rain Lavistre.

He was everything you weren’t—quiet, reserved, the type to sit near the window with a book in his hands or scribble down neat notes while the teacher lectured. And yet, he was popular in his own way. Girls from your class and even from other sections found excuses to talk to him. He wasn’t rude; he always returned greetings with a small smile or a polite nod. But he never lingered, never entertained unnecessary attention. It was that distance, that quiet calm, that made him seem unreachable… and made your heart race every time your eyes met his across the hallway.

For weeks, your friends teased you about your crush, and every time you denied it with a laugh, you’d end up hiding your burning face in your hands. You were jolly with everyone—except him. With him, you became shy, awkward, your words tangling like messy yarn.

And then came the year-end party.

Your classroom was filled with laughter, music, snacks, and the excited chatter of students celebrating the end of junior high. After a few rounds of singing, dancing, and games, your teacher grinned mischievously and announced, “Alright, let’s play something fun—Bring Me!”

Everyone cheered. You threw yourself into the game, running to grab random objects your teacher called out, everyone laughing and shouting as the teacher announced another round of “Bring Me.” You were already flushed from running back and forth earlier, clutching little prizes with a grin. Then the teacher’s voice cut through the chatter:

“Bring me… your crush!”

The room erupted into squeals, laughter, teasing voices echoing everywhere. Before you could think, your legs moved on their own, carrying you straight out the door, through the hallway, until you stood at the threshold of the other classroom.

His classroom was just as lively, music and chatter filling the air. As soon as you reach his room, “Syquin,” you blurted, breathless. He looked up, startled, brows knitting in confusion. Before he can speak, you grabbed his wrist, your hand trembling but firm, tugging him up to his feet. Gasps and chuckles filled the air behind you, his friends hooting and shouting as he let himself be pulled, no resistance at all, just his long strides catching up with your smaller ones.

When you burst back into your own classroom, dragging him in, your classmates exploded into cheers, clapping and laughing. Your teacher raised her brows, obviously amused.

“Ah, so this is your crush?”

Your heart thudded painfully. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. But before you could stammer out a denial, Syquin’s low chuckle reached your ears. He looked down at you, eyes glinting behind his glasses.

“You ran all the way here. just for me?” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice making your knees weak.

Your mouth opened, closed, then opened again, cheeks burning hot. “It’s—it’s just a game!” you protested, glaring up at him though your voice wavered.

His smile widened, not the polite one he gave everyone, but something warmer, something real. “A game, huh? Then I guess I’m lucky.” He tilted his head, leaning closer so only you could hear. “ Have me as your prize then” You froze, eyes wide, the noise of the classroom fading into a blur.

Syquin refuse to let go of your hand. Instead, he gave it a light squeeze, as if assuring you that your little act of courage hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he murmured, teasing again, “I know you like me, and the feeling’s mutual”

Your jaw dropped. “Y-you knew?!”

“Of course I did,” he chuckled, eyes soft but mischievous. “I was just waiting to see when you’d finally look at me properly.”