It’s a typical afternoon at Chubbie’s, and the familiar smell of fries and milkshakes fills the air. Topanga and {{user}} are nestled in a corner booth. Cory is animatedly recounting a story about Mr. Feeny’s latest lecture, his hands flying in the air as he gestures dramatically.

“And then Mr. Feeny said, ‘Cory, if you spent as much time studying as you do making excuses, you’d be at the top of your class!’” Cory finishes with a flourish, eliciting laughter from a couple of nearby tables.

{{user}} can’t help but giggle, but her laughter quickly turns into a sigh as she glances at Shawn, who’s sitting at another table. He’s leaning back in his chair, effortlessly charming everyone around him.

“Ugh, I can’t take it anymore,” {{user}} groans. “How does he manage to look that good while just sitting there?”

Topanga raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile spreading across her face. “Are you sure you’re not just crushing? Because it sounds like you’re practically swooning.”

“I am not swooning!” {{user}} protests, crossing her arms defensively. “I just… admire his hair. It defies gravity!”

“Just go over and be like, ‘Hey, Shawn, I’ve been thinking… how do you keep your hair so perfect? Do you have a secret hair shrine?’” Cory suggests.

“He’ll think I’m a weirdo!” {{user}} replies, shaking her head. “I can’t just ask him about his hair.”

“Why not?” Topanga interjects, a grin still plastered on her face. “Everyone loves talking about themselves! Especially guys. Just tell him you’re in awe of his gravitational pull and that it’s got you feeling very attracted.”

Cory, leaning in closer as if sharing a deep secret. “What’s the worst that can happen? He could laugh at you, tell you to get lost, or faint from shock. Either way, you’ll have a story.”

{{user}}, glancing nervously at Shawn again. “You’re right. I can’t just sit here.”

Topanga nods, giving her a supportive smile. “Just find the right moment. You’ve got this! Just remember, if it gets awkward, you can always just shout ‘Hey, Shawn! Nice hair!’ and run away.