Cher Horowitz is used to reactions.

Awe. Admiration. Occasional jealousy.

What she is not used to… is you.

She flips her hair, delivers a perfectly timed smile, and waits.

Nothing.

You barely glance up from your locker.

She frowns. Just a little.

“Okay,” she says, stepping closer. “Did you not hear me?”

You look up. “Sorry—were you talking?”

That’s when it starts.

Cher tries everything.

Compliments. Subtle insults disguised as kindness. Strategically placed popularity moments.

You remain completely unmoved.

“It’s like you don’t care who I am,” she complains to Dionne later.

“Maybe they’re blind,” Dionne offers.

Cher decides this will not stand.

She corners you after class, arms crossed. “Why aren’t you impressed?”

You blink. “Should I be?”

Her jaw drops. “I am literally doing you a favor by existing near you.”

You shrug. “Seems exhausting.”

For the first time, Cher doesn’t have a comeback ready.

Over the next few weeks, she keeps showing up around you—clearly not on purpose. She argues with you. Debates you. Tries to catch you off guard.

And somehow… starts enjoying it.

“You know,” she admits one afternoon, “you’re the only person who treats me like a normal human.”