o become the unofficial queen of librar

ly looked forward to class. Like, real human excitement. Art History was her jam now. Botticelli? Icon. Michelangelo? Drama king with a chisel. Eve

ng of poss

was th

rtured poet act and a side of "emotionally

smudges everywhere – but he treated it like it was made of gold. He'd sit with his head tilted, hair flopping into his eyes (yes, of cou

er head. (She didn't know his real name

ulting – and she was *really* trying to understand this section on linear perspective. But i

, boom.

actually meant to be polite and not pretend-charming.

d up. Sket

alking.

"Oh! Yeah. It's like trying

astic *pfft* she was used to. "Totally. I'm Adria

ke a dork. "I'm Drizella. And yes, I've see

n he laughed again. "Guilty. My sk

him felt... light. No intensity. No weird flirt traps

-

ting near each other. In class, they sometimes swapped notes or groaned together about pop quizzes. Once, they bumped into each other at the vending machine

nd into a slice-of-life sitcom. There were still feelings, but they were manageab

cool. Still sketch

er notebook, mostly to procrastinate writing a two-page summary about

n said, nodding at her sket

feel like it looks like a z

ortions right. The arm's a littl

icest way anyone's ever said 'your

awkward kind, either – the peaceful, we-don't-need-to-fil

road. It's like, a long shot, but I'

Wait, you're not e

sheepish loo

're a secret science

trying not to disappoint them. But art is wh

h

ious now. "That's really brave, Adrian. To try. Most people

say. But maybe he saw

g's scary. But so

s* moment. Just two people in the library, being honest, eatin

that mom

-

surrounded by open notebooks, flour on his hoodie (don't ask), and what looked li

xt to him. "I officially have a *library friend.* He's

guy? Oh no. We need to talk a

ly reads. Like, for fun. And he sketche

hasn't ghosted you, publicly flirted with your friends, or ma

m. Yet." She wiggled her eyebrows for

t. But only if you promise to keep him aw

eanut butter croissant? Are you

call it... the 'Ameri-croissant.' It's

ed and in

ct rea

broken glass anymore. She was surrounded by laughter, by friends, by a future that wasn't weighed

ould stick around. Or maybe not. But

ever looked f