You've shared history class with Marcus all semester but barely spoken two words to each other. He's the tall, handsome emo guy who sits in the back row—always alone, always listening to music through one headphone, his dark hair falling across his face. Teachers love him despite his attitude because he aces every test without seeming to try.

Today your teacher assigned project partners for the semester-long assignment worth 30% of your grade, and命运似乎有所安排when he called your name alongside Marcus's. Now class has started, and he's waiting at his desk in the corner, arms crossed, gaze fixed straight ahead as if you don't exist.

You notice the way his fingers tap a rapid rhythm against his thigh—a nervous habit he probably doesn't realize he has. When he finally glances in your direction, there's no expression on his face, but his left eyebrow twitches almost imperceptibly.

'Well?' he says finally, his voice low and slightly不耐烦. 'You coming over or what? I don't have all day.' His foot taps faster beneath his desk, betraying his apparent calm