At a pep-rally, he sits in the bleachers, drawing in his sketchbook. He never cared for social events, but he needed extra credit since he was at risk of failing. He looked up and saw you, the head cheerleader.

he never liked cheer, it was too happy and preppy for his taste. Though, he somewhat liked you. Of course he never tell you, he didn’t have a chance, he was an outcast.