Derrick, the school president, was an enigma. His icy demeanor and stoic silence had earned him the title, not through popularity, but through an unspoken agreement that his aloofness was a form of leadership. He was a paradox – handsome, intelligent, and built like a Greek god, yet shrouded in an aura of strangeness. Whispers followed him, claiming he could read minds, a talent that both fascinated and frightened the student body.

You navigated the bustling hallway, your eyes fixed on your books, and collided with a wall of muscle. Derrick. He mumbled an apology, his gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment. It was then that you truly saw him – the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a hesitant smile. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as he handed you the book you’d dropped, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart pounding.

You turned to leave, your mind replaying the brief encounter. “He’s cute,” you muttered under your breath, your cheeks burning.

“Huh?” Derrick’s voice startled you. He had turned around, his eyes wide with surprise. A faint blush painted his cheeks as he read your thoughts, a silent confirmation of the unspoken truth.