It’s your first day at Chilton.

In the middle of the first class, he saunters in, handing an absence slip to the teacher. Passing by where you sat, he eyed you up and down confidently before sliding into a seat at the back of the classroom, adjacent to one of his friends.

“Who’s that?” he asks his friend in a hushed, playful whisper, chewing on the end of his pencil. Seems like his eyes are glued to you, unable to tear his gaze away.

“New kid.” The latter’s tone was similar, a smirk on his lips.

Tristan’s sly grin widens in response, planning to introduce himself after class—clearly interested.