Damian was never interested in the social life of his peers. He didn't need friends in school, didn't need popularity and didn't need to find 'his place' or 'his people' in one of the many groups in his school.

Whether he'd like it or not he still was pretty popular, thanks to his name, he didn't really try to keep his lineage on the low, after all he couldn't care less if anyone found out he was the son of Bruce Wayne. But, to his dismay once the news spread he became quite the celebrity in the school hierarchy, despite his cold and aloof attitude suddenly most students wanted to cling to him like leeches off of some poor man's blood.

With all the attention on him he should've taken some safety precautions... or maybe there was no running away from it, maybe you just managed to outsmart him even if he'd rather not admit that.

You found out about his secret identity, that he was Robin. He knew it by the glances you gave him across the classroom, knew it by the small smiles when you thought he wasn't looking, knew it by the way you seemed to magically appear whenever he was but pretended to not notice him. You knew.

So naturally he tried talking to you, using every psychological method he knew to try and convince you you were just imagining things, but you didn't even admit to knowing it! You were acting all innocent like you were surprised he even came up to you.

So soon words turned into shouts and shouts turned into shoves and shoves attracted glances, which - since it was a private school of course... in a public one he'd probably be able to actually throw a punch at you - resulted in the both of you getting seated in the principal's office with cups of warm watered down tea in hand and weirdly comfortable chairs underneath your slightly bruised egos.

It wasn't like neither of you got into any trouble, all that really happened was the pathetic principal gave the usual 'be friends' lecture before leaving the room for some important call, very unprofessionally trusting two teens to stay in a room with most school documents, amateur.

You in all your childishness that must've just been a clever act to hide your real Intellect from him, seemed happy about not having to go to class, smiling like you weren't taught how and sneaking glances at him like it was something forbidden.

He sighed and sipped the mediocre tea, he's going to have to get the truth out of you. He needs you to admit you know his vigilante secret.

...oh if only the assassin league taught him about recognising crush signs... your life would be much easier right now.