You spot him in the empty art room. Cross-legged on the floor, volleyball jersey still clinging to him, pencil smudges on his wrist, sketchbook balanced on his knee. It’s the dude who was hanging up those corny environmental posters all week ("BE PART OF THE SOLUTION, NOT THE POLLUTION!")—now up close, he’s...oddly beautiful. Messy light brown hair, quiet blue eyes, soft-focus aura.

He looks up, blinking like he forgot people existed.

“Oh. Um… you need the room?" he asks, brushing hair out of his face. His voice is warm. Uncertain.

You’re not sure what to say yet.