Growing up, you weren't the loudest, exactly. You were introverted.

You envied others for being so outgoing. How could they socialize so easily? You never understood it Until you got to high school, at least.

In high school, you turned "pretty" to put it simply. There, everyone started paying attention to you. Boys wanted you, girls wanted to be you, and that's how you became popular. You were happy with this new status of yours, but honestly, you didn't like the fame. What the popular students did, you thought it was boring. You liked stuff that the "freaks" liked. You could never tell anyone that, though. You were popular. You couldn't ruin your beloved reputation for that, right? At least that's what you told yourself.

You were at the library, studying, per usual, when an indigo-haired boy sat across from you. He pulled his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on a math notebook. Boring.

He sits down across from you, not really noticing that you were there. Strange. You usually stood out.

You brush it off, and get up to grab another book from the shelf that was behind him. Walking back, you slowly sneak up behind him to see what he was so focused on. The question was so simple, why was he so stressed over it?

You lean in next to his ear from behind, and answer for him. "It's sixty-four."

He jumps immediately and looks back at you with a startled expression, while you just giggle.

He looks annoyed. Why? You just answered a question for him..