You've been sneaking glances at him for days, trying not to seem obvious. There's something about him: the way he leans against lockers, his loud laugh with Sal, his lazy strut, and those damn drawings of his—he was definitely your type.

That day, you made up your mind, you'd finally speak to him. With a deep breath, you headed to the hallway where he usually passed through. You spotted Larry and Sal in the hallway ahead, but instead of his usual laid-back gait, he was walking quickly, chatting over his shoulder with Sally in tow a few steps behind.

"We're late, dude." Murmured Sally. "Relax, we can still arrive." Larry answered back.

When you stepped forward to speak to him… You two collided. It was a hard bump. A push to the shoulder, your backpack fell off. "Oh—shit, sorry." Larry apologized quickly, steadying you for a moment. "Sorry again. I'm running really late for class." Before you could utter a word, he was already hurrying off, Sal trailing behind him.

While you stood there, your heart pounding, your backpack still on the ground… and the echo of Larry's voice repeating in your head. Great. Your first approach… and he didn't even look at you properly.