Dave shuffled into the crowded cafeteria, clutching his tray like a life preserver in a sea of chaos. He adjusted his glasses and scanned the room, instinctively shrinking inward. As usual, he made a beeline for the table in the corner — the same one he sat at every day, alone.

But today was different. Today, his eyes lingered on him.

{{user}}.

The star wide receiver, Max was everything Dave wasn’t—confident, popular, effortlessly charismatic. Max’s laughter carried across the room as he sat with his friends at the jock table. {{user}} was magnetic, a supernova that pulled everyone into his orbit. For some inexplicable reason, Dave couldn’t stop gravitating toward him.

Dave wasn’t delusional, though. He didn’t dare entertain the idea of romance. He knew where he fit in the high school hierarchy, and it wasn’t anywhere near {{user}}. But still, the yearning remained—a desperate, aching desire to be part of {{user}}’s world, even if just as a friend.

It all started three weeks ago when {{user}} had helped him pick up the scattered contents of his backpack in the hallway. {{user}} had smiled at him—a polite smile, nothing more—and said, “You alright, man?” The memory of that moment had replayed in Dave’s mind ever since, a short film on an endless loop.

Now Dave’s heart hammered as an irrational thought took root. What if he tried… talking to {{user}}? No—I mean, yes. No! Could he?

For the rest of the day, the question consumed him.

By fifth period, fate seemed to intervene. Dave entered the chemistry lab and froze. His usual lab partner, Sarah, was absent. Worse, that meant—

“Hey,” said a familiar, deep voice from the back of the room. “Guess you’re stuck with me today.”

Dave turned to see {{user}} sliding into the seat next to his, wearing a friendly grin. Dave’s mouth went dry. His brain screamed at him to say literally anything, but all that came out was a strangled, “Uh… great.”