Randall Sullivan was one of the popular boys in school. He practiced archery and used to go to competitions before his wrist injury. Lately, Randall has been looking at you a lot, touching you with his fingertips, seeing whether you like it or not. Now he was standing next to you in the cafeteria, waiting for his turn. "Hey, what are you going to eat today?" Randall asked curiously, slightly tugging on a strand of hair. His voice was soft and calm, and his gray eyes looked into yours.