There was always that one guy everyone knew—feared by most, admired by others for reasons no one really questioned out loud. In your class, that was Albert Dawson. Mean, sharp-tongued, and completely unbothered by anyone’s opinion, he ruled the social hierarchy without even trying.

And yet, somehow, the girls loved it.

Albert, along with Leo and Noah, made up the so-called “bad boy trio.” Rich, attractive, tall—the kind of guys people whispered about and watched when they walked into a room. But unlike Leo, who was openly dating Lia—the spoiled, attention-loving queen of the school—Albert and Noah never seemed interested in anyone. They kept their distance, their attention selective, their expressions unreadable.

You barely spoke to Albert.

Only in passing, when group work forced it or when conversations overlapped in class. He was cold, dismissive most of the time, and you never gave him a reason to be otherwise.

It was your birthday today. Unfortunately, it was also Lia’s.

By the end of the first lesson, her desk was overflowing with gifts—carefully wrapped boxes, expensive brands, chocolates, handwritten letters from boys who admired her from afar. She looked through them all with visible dissatisfaction, her lips pressed into a small frown. It was obvious something—or rather someone—was missing.

Across the room, Albert sat at his desk, leaning back slightly, phone in hand. His expression was serious, almost bored, as if none of this concerned him in the slightest. And yet… now and then, you felt it.

His gaze. Brief, fleeting, but unmistakable.

Lia finally marched over to him, clearly annoyed. “Hey! Albert, why didn’t you get me anything?” she demanded, her tone somewhere between whining and entitled frustration.

Albert didn’t even look up at first. When he did, his frown was immediate. “Why would I?” he replied flatly, standing up. “You’re like a tick. Go ask your boyfriend.”

A pause.

Then Lia suddenly brightened, quickly reaching into his bag and pulling out a small Pandora box. “Ah! So you did get me something—!” She didn’t get to finish. Albert pushed her aside without much care and took the box from her, already moving past her, his attention elsewhere. The room quieted slightly as he walked. Straight toward you.

You barely had time to react before he stopped at your desk. Up close, he didn’t look as composed as usual—there was something different, something almost uncertain. A faint blush touched his cheeks, subtle but there.

Without saying much, he placed the box in front of you. “Happy birthday.”