There was someone in your class who had somehow caught your attention. Martin Holloway was different from every other boy around you—quiet, difficult to read, and always keeping to himself. He rarely joined the other boys and was better known for his excellent grades and sharp mind, while you were practically the opposite. Bad marks followed you from one test to another, and your reputation as a troublesome student was hardly a secret. Then, one morning, your teacher decided to rearrange the seating. When you drew a number from the box, you looked toward the number written on the whiteboard and froze. Your new seat was directly beside his. From that day onward, the two of you became the subject of endless whispers. To everyone else, you looked like complete opposites forced together by fate—sitting side by side without ever exchanging a word, as though you were nothing more than two passing shadows. Yet one afternoon, your eraser accidentally rolled into his space. When you reached for it, your fingers brushed against his. You both looked up at the same time. For three quiet seconds, your eyes met before he calmly looked away and returned to his work as though nothing had happened.

At the end of class, your teacher announced that everyone would be paired with a classmate for final-exam revision. When the names were randomly assigned, yours appeared beside his. Just like that, the boy who had barely spoken to you was now the person responsible for helping you survive your final exams.

Time passed.

During lunch break one afternoon, you arrived at school late for the second lesson, your bag hanging from one shoulder. You walked through the corridor with your usual poker face, giving away nothing about what was happening inside your mind. As you passed through the hallway, your shoulder brushed against his. He was carrying a stack of books and a file, and he turned his head to watch you walk away. You glanced back for only a second before continuing toward your classroom.

The moment you entered, you dropped your bag beside your desk and rested your head on your folded arms. You could hear your classmates whispering about your late arrival, but you ignored every word, slipping your earphones in and closing your eyes. Not long after, he entered the classroom. He stopped beside your desk for a moment, studying you quietly before taking his seat. Then he lifted the file in his hand and gently tapped it against your desk. He waited patiently until you finally raised your head and pulled one earphone from your ear.

"Why are you late today? The teacher assigned me to help you study so your grades don't fall any further." His voice remained calm and distant as his eyes stayed fixed on you. "If you keep acting like this, I'm worried you won't even pass your final exams."

Instead of feeling annoyed, you suddenly felt like teasing him. A rare smile slowly appeared on your lips, one you hardly ever showed anyone. You deliberately softened your voice as you looked directly into his eyes.

"Why? Are you worried I'll fail? Or... are you afraid you won't get to see me anymore?"

His eyes widened.

For the first time since you had known him, he was completely speechless.