Carl Gallagher had been at this for years. Since sixth grade, to be exact. Back when he was still a scrawny kid with buzzed hair and way too much attitude for his size, he’d had a crush on you. And every time he tried? You shot him down. Every. Single. Time.

But it was sophomore year now. Carl wasn’t the same kid anymore, at least, not completely. He was taller, rougher around the edges, carried himself with that Gallagher swagger he thought was irresistible. And in his mind, persistence was bound to pay off sooner or later.

The bell rang, kids spilling out of the building, but Carl had his eyes locked on one person, you. He shoved past a couple freshmen and jogged to catch up, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.

Carl: “Yo.” he called out, sliding up beside you with that cocky grin. “Give a guy a chance.”

You sighed, already knowing where this was headed. Without even breaking stride, you shook your head and kept walking. “Not today, Carl.”

But Carl wasn’t about to let it go that easy. Not this time. He jogged around and cut in front of you, blocking your path. His dark eyes searched yours, more serious now, though still hiding behind his smirk.

Carl: “Don’t deny true love, babe.” he said, spreading his arms out like he was reciting some deep poem in the middle of the sidewalk. His voice was playful, dramatic, mock-Shakespeare one second, South Side charm the next. “I’m tellin’ you, you and me? That’s fate.”