Chapter 1I Think My Deskmate Has a Secret

Every day, it felt like there was a line of girls trying to win over my deskmate.

Cheerleaders, prom queens, the most popular girls in school—they all flocked to him.

But my quiet, brooding deskmate? He didn't have an ounce of chivalry in his body.

He’d look dead into the eyes of these gorgeous girls and spit out a single word: "Leave."

It was always dripping with pure, unadulterated annoyance and apathy.

Yet, that same guy would turn around, pin me against the lockers, and look at me with dark, intense eyes. His voice would carry a desperate, almost pleading edge:

"Don't like anyone else. Please."

* * *

I’m just an average, background-character kind of girl.

Average family, average grades, average looks—maybe cute on a good day, but definitely nothing special.

My life was a predictable loop: school, homework, home.

Everything was incredibly, agonizingly ordinary.

I went through the motions every single day, completely content with my routine.

Until, one day, I realized my life wasn't so ordinary anymore.

It all started in my junior year, when the teacher assigned me a new deskmate.

His name was Arthur. He was the valedictorian, the school’s resident bad-boy genius, and undeniably gorgeous.

He had a quiet, brooding personality and constantly radiated a dark, "don't-mess-with-me" aura. He looked like he hated the world.

But that didn't matter, because he was hot, and he was smart.

Naturally, he was the target of countless teenage crushes.

Except for me.

I had zero interest in him.

My crush was on the sunny, outgoing quarterback from the class next door.

Which is exactly why the teacher made Arthur my deskmate.

Why didn't she pair him with a guy? Because Arthur apparently had severe mysophobia—he was a massive germaphobe.

If someone even brushed against him, he’d act like a layer of his skin had been peeled off. His face would instantly turn like thunder.

Teenage boys are full of testosterone. One wrong look, and a fight would break out.

With girls, he’d hold back from throwing punches, but his mouth was lethal. He’d verbally decimate them.

So, I became the safest, most logical choice to sit next to Arthur.