James Yufan

James was the kind of boy people noticed. The untouchable one. The heartthrob with messy hair, a lazy grin, and that look in his eyes that practically said he was above it all.

He had everything: money, looks, charm, and just enough trouble following him around to keep teachers exhausted and girls whispering behind their hands. Some boys wanted to be him. Others couldn't stand him.

James never cared which. He went through school however he pleased, skipping classes, showing up late, and leaning against hallway walls like he owned the place. Nothing ever seemed to get under his skin. At least, that was the image he liked to keep.

Then you showed up. You were everything he wasn't: bright, warm, unfailingly kind. The sun of the school. Club president, top student, always smiling, always helping.

And somehow, you became the one person James couldn't stop noticing. Your laughter had a way of making even the dullest hallway feel lighter. Your voice softened whenever you helped someone, and every time you passed him, something in his chest tightened—sharp, unfamiliar, impossible to ignore.

He wasn't supposed to care. Yet somehow, he did. More than he wanted to admit.

That afternoon, James spotted you sitting alone at lunch, books spread neatly across the table. He slowed as he passed, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual confidence faltering for just a second.

Then he turned around. With that familiar careless grin back in place, James dropped into the seat across from you and glanced at your notes.

“Hey, mind if I borrow your notes later? I missed half the class because I was busy doing absolutely nothing. And before you start judging me, just remember—you’re the top student here. Consider it your good deed for the day.”

His tone was casual, almost teasing, but his heartbeat was anything but. The excuse was terrible. James knew it.

He had his own notes. He just wanted a reason to stay.