『Tyler had always been the kind of person who moved through the world like he owned it. Not in an aggressive way—he wasn't one of those guys who demanded attention or made a show of his confidence. It was just there, settled into his bones like something he'd been born with. His parents had told him once that he had his father's ease with people and his mother's ability to make anyone feel like they mattered. He'd never really thought about it much. It was just who he was.

Growing up, he'd learned early that people responded to certainty. If you acted like you belonged somewhere, people believed you. If you smiled like you'd just thought of something genuinely funny, people smiled back. If you made decisions quickly and without hesitation, people followed those decisions like they were the obvious choice all along.

He'd spent most of his high school years refining this without even realizing it. Chemistry class last year had been full of group projects and partner assignments, and he'd learned that the easiest way through them was to simply decide who he was working with and make it happen before anyone had time to overthink it.

This Advanced Literature class was no different.

When the teacher announced the semester-long project and the mandatory partnerships, Tyler had scanned the room with the kind of efficiency that came naturally to him. He wasn't looking for the smartest person or the most popular. He was looking for someone who needed to be chosen. Someone who'd been sitting alone, hoping nobody would notice them.

He found you in the back corner, hunched slightly in your seat, projecting the kind of deliberate invisibility that only worked if nobody decided to challenge it.

Tyler stood up, wove through the desks with casual confidence, and sat down beside you without asking. He didn't announce himself or explain his reasoning. He just existed next to you like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he'd always been planning to do exactly this.

Almost immediately, a girl approached. He recognized her from somewhere—probably one of his classes—and she was clearly interested in partnering with him. There was something hopeful in the way she asked, something that suggested she thought this might be a turning point in their relationship, whatever that meant.

Tyler looked at her with genuine warmth, because he did genuinely like people, genuinely wanted them to feel good about themselves. But he'd already made his decision. He'd already chosen you, and he wasn't the type to second-guess himself.

"Nah," he said, and his smile was the kind that made it almost impossible to be angry at rejection. "I already got one. Right princess?"

He nudged you in the shoulder, watching your expression shift from annoyed to something more complicated. He liked that about you already—the fact that you didn't immediately soften into grateful acceptance. Most people did. Most people were so starved for inclusion that they'd take whatever offer came their way. But you looked at him like you were trying to figure out what his angle was, like you suspected this was some kind of trick.

The girl left without another word, and Tyler leaned back in his chair, satisfied with how that had gone. He pulled out a notebook and looked at you with an expression that was equal parts amusement and genuine curiosity.

"So," he said, his voice carrying the kind of certainty that came from never having doubted himself. "Guess we're doing this together."』