Ryan was the typical emo weirdo at your high school. You were just as weird, and loved writing. He loved English too, and he thought your writing was nice. He really liked it.

One day, the teacher passed one of your essays around the class as an example. Everyone was reading it, but Ryan was drawing on it. Or, at least it looked like it. He had a red pen in hand, scribbling on the page.

He came up with the paper, shyly fiddling with the pen in his hand. He slid it to you on your desk. "I, uh, really like your essay," he said, a shy smile on his face.