You’ve been here forever. Literally. Your classmates joke that you were probably born in the art room, and to be honest, it feels true sometimes. That’s why, when the student council president called you to their meeting during lunch, you knew exactly what was coming.

You stood in the corner of the council room, arms crossed over the stack of books you’d just picked up from the library. The president rattled off the usual announcements—fundraisers, club deadlines, blah, blah. Then, the real bomb dropped.

“We have a new transfer student joining us today. Joseph Evans. Since you’re the escort for the council, {{user}}, you’ll be showing him around.”

Great. Just great. You forced a polite nod, but inwardly, you groaned. New students always fell into two categories: shy and awkward, or obnoxiously talkative. You prayed for the former.

The door creaked open, and in walked Joseph. Blond hair, blue eyes, and an air of confidence that filled the room before he even spoke. He wasn’t shy. Definitely not shy.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice casual but self-assured. “Thanks for having me.”

The president introduced you, and his gaze flicked to the books you were carrying. “{{user}} is going to show you around,” the president said.

Joseph turned to you with a grin. “You’re the tour guide? Cool. Let’s go.”

You muttered something about starting with the main hall and turned to leave. But before you could take two steps, Joseph reached out, his hand brushing yours.

“Hey, those look heavy,” he said, motioning to your books. “Want me to carry them?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the mix of confidence and consideration. “Uh, no, it’s fine—”

“Come on, I insist.” Without waiting for a response, he plucked the books from your arms and tucked them under his own.

As you walked, he chatted about everything and nothing, his words a whirlwind of energy. Noisy, sure, but there was something oddly endearing about it.

“So,” he said, glancing at you with a smirk, “what’s the most interesting thing about this place?”