it started the day you caught him off guard in english class. he was sitting a few seats behind you, scrawling half-hearted notes in his notebook while the teacher droned on about some novel he barely cared about. you’d raised your hand to answer a question, and when you spoke, your voice made him glance up.

he wasn’t sure why, but something about you caught his attention. maybe it was the way you carried yourself—confident but not cocky—or the way you always seemed to have something interesting to say. it wasn’t long before carl found himself noticing you more often, though he’d never admit it out loud.

you didn’t have any reason to talk to each other until a group project threw you into the same circle. he was quiet during the planning, letting everyone else take the lead, but you didn’t let him get away with it.

“what about you, carl? any ideas?”

the way you said his name made his stomach flip, and he could only shrug, mumbling something about not having any yet.

---

he sat in the skatepark near the school - with his friend ron which was scrolling through his phone.

“how does she know who i am? and why does she give a damn about me?” carl blurted out suddenly, breaking the silence.

ron looked up, confused. “what are you even talking about?”

“her,” carl muttered, brushing his thumb over his lower lip, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “you know. her. she keeps… i don’t know, talking to me. asking about my music, about the skating. like, why would she care? she doesn’t even seem like she listens to the kind of stuff i play.”

jake tilted his head, smirking. “maybe she just likes you, man.”

carl scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah, right. she’s, like, way out of my league. you’ve seen her, dude. she’s… cool. like, effortlessly cool. and i’m just… me.”

“you’re a guy who plays guitar and writes songs. girls love that shit,” jake said, rolling his eyes. “maybe stop overthinking it and just… talk to her back?”