The classroom was half full when Regina walked in.
It smelled like old wood and strong coffee—someone had spilled theirs on the carpet, probably years ago. She picked the seat by the window, as always, pulled out her laptop, and tried to focus.
It was the second week of the semester.
She hadn't seen Connor since the bike ride. No texts. No messages. Just a notification that he'd viewed her Instagram story. Twice.
She told herself it didn't mean anything. She barely knew him. Maybe that's just how people were in Lunebourne—intense one minute, distant the next.
She opened a blank document.
"Name, date, course title."
She was halfway through typing when the door opened again.
A boy walked in—late, casual, unbothered.
He was wearing a white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and slightly ripped jeans. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore; it was soft, messy, and curled a little at the ends like he hadn't bothered to do anything with it.
It was Connor.
Regina blinked. Was this… the same guy?
Just last week, he used to wait by the steps after class—helmet in hand, asking if she wanted a ride.
She'd said no. Every time.
She told herself it was to stay independent. To keep things casual.
But now?
He didn't ask anymore.
And somehow, that stung more than she thought it would.
He looked around once, spotted her, and took the empty seat one row over.
No smirk. No teasing.
Just a half nod and the smallest hint of a smile.
Regina stared at him for two seconds too long before snapping her eyes back to her screen.
But he noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"What?" he whispered, leaning slightly closer.
"You look… different today," she replied, still staring at her keyboard.
"I washed my hair," he said with a straight face.
She glanced at him. "That's not all."
He raised an eyebrow. "You've been cataloguing my wardrobe, Anderson?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You had black pants. A belt. A white dress shirt. You looked like a vampire lawyer."
He laughed under his breath. "Wow. That detailed, huh?"
She paused.
"…No," she said quickly. "I just—"
"You're paying that much attention to me?"
Regina turned away, pretending to read the syllabus on the screen.
He leaned back in his chair, satisfied.
She hated that she could still hear him smiling.
She wasn't sure when it happened—when she started noticing the little things. But something about him made her look twice. And then again.
"Hey!"
A new voice cut in. A girl walked in, holding an iced Americano and smiling like she owned the room.
"You must be the transfer student. Connor told me about you."
Regina blinked. "Uh… yeah. I'm Regina."
"Mandy Zhang. English major." She settled into the seat beside Connor with ease. "Connor and I took French together last year."
She offered a brief smile, but her tone was too polished to be warm.
Regina gave a polite nod, heart picking up pace for no reason she could explain.
Moments later, Connor walked in—again—with an iced Americano of his own.
"Finally," Mandy chirped, lighting up. "Long time no see!"
She reached over and tapped his shoulder playfully. Connor smiled, said hey, but his eyes drifted toward Regina.
"You two are… close?" Regina asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"Yeah. She's insanely good at French," Connor said casually.
Regina's throat tightened.
Connor glanced over and grinned. "What? You jealous?"
"Me? No." She grabbed her phone and flipped it over, showing her lock screen.
"That's my type."
It was a paparazzi shot of Timothée Chalamet, in a perfectly tailored suit, hair tousled just right, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass.
Connor leaned in, squinting. "Seriously?"
"What? He's hot."
He scoffed. "Okay. So he has cheekbones. Big deal."
"He's more than that. He's art."
Connor rolled his eyes. "I go to the gym every day, y'know. That counts for something."
"Oh yeah?" she teased.
"Yeah. I practically live there. That gets me at least one point, right?"
Regina smiled without looking up. "One. Maybe two."
"You're brutal."
"You're dramatic."
He narrowed his eyes. "You're a terrible senior."
"I'm focused."
"You're a menace."
She grinned.
As they stood up to leave, Connor casually pulled out his phone."You like music?"She gave him a look. "Do I look like someone who doesn't?""Just checking," he said, snatching her phone before she could react."Hey! Connor! Give that back!""Relax, I'm not deleting your Taylor Swift.""You better not."He smirked. "I'm upgrading you."
And before she could snatch it back, a familiar tune started playing through the speakers.
🎵 Here Comes the Sun.
Regina blinked. "That's… The Beatles?""My favorite," he said with zero hesitation. "It's like a reset button for the brain. Especially when the world's being annoying."She crossed her arms. "Connor, you're the one being annoying."He grinned wider. "Then I guess I'm the world."
She rolled her eyes. "You're not deep just because you quote classic rock.""No, but I've got good taste," he said, handing her phone back. "And if you like that one, you should try Sunflower next. Chill but lowkey sad. Like it's trying to be happy but not quite there."She narrowed her eyes. "Are you calling me emotionally unstable?"He tilted his head. "Not directly.""Unbelievable."He laughed. "Hey, just listen to it. Might surprise you."
Regina slipped her phone into her hoodie pocket, not making any promises. But later that night, she'd plug in her earphones anyway—just to see what kind of song Connor thought of when he looked at her.