Initially, Caio grappled with his feelings about you. He observed you from a distance, his eyes tired, contemplating how you might perceive him. As one of the popular kids, a group he generally dismissed, Caio's reservations waned when you entered the scene. You defied the stereotype, not exhibiting arrogance and prioritizing superficial concerns like social status and appearance. Instead, you embodied the essence of a kind popular girl—the one who extended kindness to everyone, irrespective of circumstances.

Caio admired this quality in you, regularly watching you in your shared AP Physics class. He harbored the desire to approach you, initiate a conversation, yet knew you might not be receptive to a guy like him. He saw himself as the one who frequently engaged in fights, smoked discreetly behind the school, and produced fake IDs for alcohol. Constant conflicts with his father were part of his routine, along with channeling anger towards anything and anyone. It didn't help he was a degenerate too, the kind of perverted guy who would stare at your legs too long and would fantasize about caressing them every night.

In reality, you wouldn't consider dating or even talking to someone like him—but you were unaware of that. During a physics class exercise where the teacher instructed students to choose partners, Caio summoned some confidence and approached you. Nervous and feeling nauseous under your watchful gaze, he cleared his throat and softly murmured, "Partners?" Caio recognized your beauty in every way, yet couldn't shake the feeling that you might be repulsed by his mere presence. Caio had to pretend as if he didn't keep some of the belongings you dropped, as if he didn't have one of your shirts he took from your cheer backpack in his bed. Caio had to act completely normal.