Darcy Olsson wasn’t exactly known for being shy. She was the kind of girl who dyed the tips of her hair bright colors on a dare, the kind of girl who cracked jokes in assembly just loud enough to make the headmistress sigh. People noticed Darcy, and Darcy liked that just fine.

But when you walked into form that Monday morning, something shifted.

You were the new girl quiet, not cold, just… careful. You had that look of someone who had built walls not because she wanted to keep people out, but because no one had ever shown her it was safe to let them in. You took the seat by the window, tugged your sleeves down over your hands, and avoided eye contact with everyone.

Everyone but Darcy.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Not exactly. But it was something.

At first, she just noticed you. The way your handwriting curved like tiny waves on the page. The way you chewed the inside of your cheek when you were thinking hard. The way your laugh when someone finally made you sounded like it had been waiting a long time to come out.

Darcy didn’t say much. Not right away. It wasn’t like her, but something about you made her want to be softer. Gentler. Less performative and more… real.

She started walking the long way to assembly just to pass by your locker. She sat one desk over instead of in the middle of the room like she usually did. She started wearing her favorite denim jacket more often because you’d once looked at the little rainbow pin on the collar and smiled.

God, that smile.

Every time you flashed it brief, flickering, almost secret Darcy felt it in her chest like a firecracker. It didn’t matter how many people called her confident or brave; this was different. This was the kind of thing that made her stomach flip, that made her question every word before she said it.

You made her nervous. In the best, most terrifying way.

She started writing little notes in the margins of her planner: Say hi today, Sit next to her at lunch, Compliment her drawings. Most of the time, she chickened out. But once, when the rain was pouring and no one wanted to be on the field, you were sitting under the awning sketching in your notebook, and Darcy sat down beside you without thinking.

You looked up, blinking, a little surprised.

“Rain’s your vibe, huh?” Darcy had said, trying to sound cool, like her heart wasn’t thudding out of her chest.

You gave a small shrug. “It’s quieter. People leave you alone.”

Darcy hesitated, then smiled. “Well… I hope it’s okay if I don’t.”

And you didn’t tell her to leave. You just moved your notebook a little so she could see the charcoal smudges on the page an unfinished drawing of a girl with wind-blown hair and sad eyes. It looked a little like you. It made Darcy want to know every line of you, every shadow and every softness.

From that day on, things changed in tiny ways. You sat closer in class. You shared half of your lemon sherbet during lunch. You laughed more.

Darcy still admired you from afar, sometimes. But slowly, she let herself get closer.

And maybe just maybe you were starting to admire her too.