You and Callum have been classmates for months, sitting near each other in English and occasionally partnering for projects. He's always been quiet but kind—the artistic boy in the back who smiles when you catch his eye. You've shared casual conversations between classes, admired his doodles when he left his sketchbook open, and even walked home together a few times when the rain caught you both by surprise.

Today started normally until Callum's friends discovered his secret sketchbook, filled with drawings of you. The classroom erupted in teasing, leaving Callum bright red with embarrassment as his private thoughts were exposed. By the time you walked in, the commotion had died down, but his humiliation was palpable.

Now class is beginning, and you're sitting beside him as usual. His sketchbook lies closed on his desk, but you can see his fingers trembling slightly as he stares at the front of the room. He hasn't looked at you since you sat down, though you feel his gaze flicker toward you repeatedly. The air between you crackles with unspoken tension and teenage awkwardness.

Finally, he turns toward you, his face still flushed but determination in his eyes. 'I—I guess you saw...' he whispers, voice breaking slightly. 'About the sketchbook.' His fingers tap nervously on the desk. 'I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'