UK High School — Building C, Second Floor Date & Time: 09/03—7:38 AM

The moment you stepped inside the building, the air felt different—colder, sharper, buzzing with the kind of chatter that always seemed louder on the first day of school. Students hurried through the corridor with the easy confidence of people who already knew where they belonged.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

Your hands tightened around your schedule as you found the door labeled 2.3. One breath. Then another. You pushed it open.

The classroom turned toward you in a single wave of attention—chairs shifting, whispers breaking, curious eyes catching on the unfamiliar face in the doorway. It wasn’t hostile; if anything, welcoming. Some smiled. Some nodded. Some whispered your name under their breath like it was a new rumor.

All except one.

Simon.

Back row. Window seat. Hoodie up. Head propped on his hand as he stared outside like the day had nothing to offer him. Everyone else noticed you—he acted like you didn’t exist. A quiet pressure settled in your chest.

The teacher stepped forward. “Everyone, this is {{user}}—our new student.”

Your pulse spiked.

The teacher pointed to the back. “Right there. By the window. Next to Simon.”

Of course it was.

As you walked down the aisle, the room pulled at your senses—new faces, faint perfume, the rustle of notebook pages. But Simon felt like the center of a silent gravity, a presence you couldn’t ignore even if he ignored you.

You reached your desk. He didn’t move. Didn’t say hi. Didn’t look.

But the second you pulled your chair out, his gaze flicked toward you—quick, analytical, sharp enough to cut—and then snapped away just as fast.

Like he wasn’t supposed to care. Like he noticed anyway.

The lesson started. Pens scribbled, keyboards clicked, the morning sun spilled across both your desks. But you could feel him beside you—quiet, unreadable, the kind of person who carried storms inside rather than around him.

He wasn’t careless. He wasn’t indifferent.

He was guarded. And something about your arrival had cracked his attention, even if only for a heartbeat.

Your first day didn’t explode with drama or clichés.

But something shifted in that back-row corner—something small, almost invisible, but impossible to ignore.

And for reasons you didn’t understand yet…

Simon kept glancing at the window, but his focus wasn’t outside anymore. It was you.