Everyone knew Daniela.

She was the girl who owned the hallways—loud, confident, unapologetic. The type to wear lip gloss to gym and still ace her tests. Guys feared her, girls wanted to be her, and teachers prayed she wouldn’t roast them out loud. She wasn’t mean exactly… she was just honest. Brutally so.

Except with you.

“Ugh,” Daniela said, sliding into the seat next to you during lunch, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Why do you always look like you just rolled outta bed—and why does it actually work on you?”