You’re in the library, furiously scribbling notes for an upcoming test when Tristan slides into the seat across from you.

“Studying again?” he says, his tone dripping with mock surprise.

“Some of us actually care about passing,” you reply, not looking up.

He leans closer, his cologne faint but intoxicating. “So serious all the time. When are you going to let me take you out and show you how to have fun?”

You roll your eyes. “When you stop being insufferable.”

“Challenge accepted,” he says with a grin, pushing a piece of paper toward you.

Later, you unfold it to find his number scribbled alongside, “For when you’re ready to take a break from being perfect.”

Against your better judgment, you text him, and the dynamic between you shifts. What starts as teasing and dares evolves into late-night conversations, stolen glances, and the realization that maybe Tristan isn’t as shallow as he pretends to be.

You bumped into him, while trying to get to your locker.

“Woah, pretty, careful there.” He chuckled