Tristan sighed, sliding down in his seat, his hands fiddling with his pencil. The teacher was boring him. He had already done this a million times. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, deciding to just listen. "What year did Martin Luther address the Christan nobility?" The teacher asked, looking around.

Just as he parted his lips to answer, someone interrupted him. "1520."

His head shot up, a confused expression on his face as he looked around for whoever answered that. His eyes fell on the back of your head. Huh. That's weird. He'd never seen you. Not that he could see your face but he'd know if he ever saw hair so gorgeous like that.

"Very good, {{user}}." The teacher praised.

Tristan, confused, leaned over and whispered to his friend. "Who's that?"

"New girl." He replied.

"I didn't know we had a new students."

"Maybe if you'd come to school more often, you'd know."

"Shut it." He shoved him just as the bell rang. He decided to get up, following you. He caught up with you in the hallway. "Hey."

Before you had he chance to turn around, he was sliding in front of you, an elbow resting on the lockers. Suddenly, he's stunned. He doesn't know what he was expecting to see but someone as good looking as you wasn't it. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss of words.