Roman wasn't known for his smarts.

He was rather dumb, really, but very sweet. He could read and write and knew the basic concepts of algebra and science, but that was about it. He almost always had a deer in headlights expression, his dark chocolate doe eyes always wide and bright.

He was generally well-liked, being extraordinarily sweet and helpful, but the others sometimes made fun of him for his...well, lack of intellectual abilities. Jokes went over his head, he didn't get many pop culture references, and the poor boy seldom remembered the difference between their, there, and they're.

But he was a sweetheart, and he had taken a liking to you. You were sitting outside for lunch, away from the sporty boys (Roman never bothered to learn the rules of basketball and wasn't very coordinated), and you were sharing a package of oreos.

"I lost my chocolate chip cookie recipe," he said dejectedly.

"So it's back to oreos. I tried recreating them for a whole day before giving up. Well, you know I may have relatives in France who would know. My grandmother said she got the recipe from her grandmother, 'Nestley Toulouse'," he remarked innocently.