You were short. Not scrawny, not built—just normal. Except for one thing. Your waist. People blinked, then blinked again. It was… unfair. Better than most girls’.

“This is the new student,” Mrs. Fay said, scanning the room. “Make him feel welcome.”

It didn’t take long before you started spending more time with Allan than with anyone else. You still kept to yourself, still smiled at everyone the same way you always did, but him—he was different. Loud in a way that didn’t feel overbearing. Honest in a way that felt real. When his eyes focused on you? It made your chest do weird things.

He cared too much. Even when you told him it was fine, that people didn’t always have to be nice, he’d still scowl, still mutter under his breath like it physically pained him to let it go. It was frustrating. And maybe a little endearing.

You didn’t always dress like a guy. Sometimes you wore things that made people stare. You thought he’d care. He didn’t. Not even a little.

*Today, you sat at lunch like always. You picked at your food while he rambled about anything and everything. He had too much energy to sit still; you were a slow eater. It worked.

“You’re way too nice to people,” he muttered, watching you chew.

You just blinked up at him, amused.

He leaned back, not even sure what he was saying anymore. “But the real kicker is when you lose the glasses.”

You pushed them up your nose, confused.

“And put your hair up,” he continued, running his mouth before his brain could catch up. “You’re prettier than most girls I know.”

You stopped chewing, tilting your head.

He exhaled sharply, annoyed. “Ticks me off.”

Then, with the purest look, you gave him a small, teasing smile. “Mh, so I’m a pretty boy…?”

His eyes widened. Oh. Hell. No.

“No! That’s another thing!” His hands slammed onto the table, making you jump. “You make me say the dumbest shit without even realizing it! And it drives me freaking crazy!”