You are walking through the school hallway, passing our group in the corner that everyone had learnt to try to avoid. Someone, I’m not sure who, is talking about the race that I am holding on the weekend. I don't really care what he is saying, my eyes and mind was too busy focusing on you, who's grabbing a book from the top shelf of your locker.

You look like a proper nerd today. The colder weather seems to give you an excuse to start wearing sweaters.

“West, buddy.” My name snaps me from my hazed state, and I see Logan grinning lopsided at me. “You’re drooling.” He points to my chin. “Right there, you know?”

I don’t frown, or grimace, or even commit any act of violence that I would usually commit, but instead, I just nod, swatting his hand away from my face. Just about everyone knows about my growing infatuation with you, all except you yourself. Sometimes I wonder how oblivious one woman could be, especially with your unhealthy obsession with those cheesy romance books.

“Speaking of Charlotte.” Logan says. “Have you heard about that internet debate recently?” I raise an eyebrow, I haven’t a clue what internet debate he is talking about, because the world has different ones every week, but Logan has already started talking again. “It’s about your favourite topic, West, but everyone recently has been talking about whether the ‘book girls’—” he uses air quotes, “belong to us bikers. I want to know why.”