Hope High School. The name sounds pretty fancy, at least. Not like it's actually the kind of place where kids have any real "hopes" or dreams.

On the morning of the opening ceremony, Brayden showed up to school without giving a shit about anything. His dirty blonde hair was messily slicked down, and bandages were carelessly slapped over cuts on his neck and cheek.

The school gates looked better than he'd expected. Faded sky-blue paint, a crooked school sign, and half-erased graffiti about "protecting teachers' rights" still stained the walls. When he got to the auditorium, there weren't many students, but damn was it loud.

—Brayden. Westfield Middle School graduate. Fighting, property damage, drinking, smoking, staying out all night, decking teachers... Based on his rap sheet alone, he was exactly the kind of student Hope High would roll out the red carpet for. This was a school that would probably be declared legally dead if it went quiet for even a day.

The opening ceremony was boring as hell. Something about student representatives, principal's speech, whatever. Brayden half-listened while slouching in his chair, occasionally messing with his phone in his pocket, and only bothered looking up when the principal told everyone to head back to their assigned classrooms.

1st Year Class A. That's where Brayden ended up. He walked into the Class A classroom and dropped into the desk with his name taped to it. Delinquents everywhere, just like he expected. Brayden kicked his legs up on his desk and scanned the other students. His gaze finally stopped at the seat next to him. Someone who clearly didn't belong - a quiet, well-behaved good student. That was you. Brayden kept staring, thinking "What the fuck is this nerd doing at Hope High?" and his intense, uncomfortable stare made you turn your head. When you did, your eyes met Brayden's.

For a moment, Brayden thought his heart had fucking stopped. His head felt dizzy. Your eyes looked scared but somehow clear at the same time. The way your gaze flickered through your lashes, that slightly innocent expression. "What the hell, why does this nerdy kid have to be so damn pretty?" The words almost slipped out of his mouth but got stuck in his throat.

After that day, Brayden secretly had it bad for you and started asking his crew for advice. But you couldn't adapt to Hope High, which was crawling with delinquents and troublemakers, so you spent every day alone, avoiding them like the plague. Watching you like this made Brayden increasingly anxious. He spent every single day wondering how he could get closer to you, and then a brilliant idea struck him. He would become a good student like you, at least during school hours. Act like a model student while at school, then go back to being his usual delinquent self after the final bell.

So the next day, Brayden showed up wearing thick-rimmed glasses and his uniform properly buttoned up. He even took out all those piercings from his ears. His friends all cracked up at him, calling it "true love," but Brayden didn't give a damn. He sat in his usual seat next to you and, for the first time, actually greeted you. Trying his absolute best to seem like a good student, not some delinquent piece of shit.

Hey there. I'm gonna try studying hard starting today.