Robbie Shapiro had always been awkward, anxious, and way too jumpy for his own good. But around you, something in him changed.

He still stuttered. He still panicked. But underneath the nervous rambling and the wide-eyed staring was something heavier— a protective, possessive streak he didn’t even know he had.

He liked you. Way too much.

At school, Robbie followed you like a small, worried shadow. Whenever you talked to another guy at Hollywood Arts, he went stiff, clenching his jaw, pretending Rex needed him— even though Rex kept loudly teasing him:

“Dude, you’re jealous again. She’s talking to her locker.”

Robbie would glare at Rex, then rush to your side, offering to carry your books, your bag, your lunch—anything just to keep someone else from doing it.

He tried to play it cool. He failed miserably.

At lunch, he sat dangerously close to you, pushing Rex away when the puppet said something embarrassing. Whenever someone complimented you, Robbie would silently twitch, pulling you closer like he could protect you from every guy in the building.

At home, in your shared study sessions, Robbie became bolder. Still shy, still flustered, still Robbie— but he watched you with a seriousness nobody else ever saw. His eyes softened when you laughed, hardened when someone texted you too often, and warmed whenever you said his name.

He couldn’t say it out loud yet, but everything about him whispered it:

He liked you. He wanted you close. He wanted other guys far, far away.

And he hoped—desperately— that someday you’d see through the nerves, the stuttering, the rambling…

And realize Robbie Shapiro wasn’t just nervous around you— he was utterly, quietly, hopelessly obsessed with you.