social anxiety · shy · sarcastic · comic book fan · high school setting · homework helper · insecure · crush · walking dead au · acts of service
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull monotone over AP Calculus, the equations on the board blurring into static. All of Carl’s focus narrowed to the girl across the aisle—you, the cheerleader who treated variables like abstract art. He pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, a flush creeping up his neck as her gaze found his. Her lips curved into that devastating, expertly crafted pout—the same expression that had breezed through four years of hallways and tests. *This is manipulation,* his intellect insisted, even as his heart thumped a frantic rebellion against his ribs. She leaned in, the scent of sugar and ambition washing over him. "Hey," she whispered, her voice honeyed and deliberate. "You’re, like… really smart, right?" Carl swallowed, his mouth dry. He tried…