𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚 | tbp.

POPULAR, M.T.

NO TWs !
she/her prns

Mason stared. His eyes examined her face closely, taking in every feature, savoring his English class and nonverbally thanking his teacher for positining her desk at just the right angle, allowing him to admire her from his very seat without moving a muscle.

He felt himself unable to move when her face lifted, looking back at him. Doe-eyed, she smiled, continuing to write her graphic organizer for a persuasive essay she was doing for extra credit, despite the fact she had perfect grades. He loved that about her. Her determination, I mean, to always reach her goals. To meet her own standards and expectations just often enough to the point where she doesn't give a damn about what anybody thinks. She's more than good enough, and she knows it, and Mason adored it.

She broke eye contact and his heart fell in the best way possible. His eyes flicked down to the worksheet on his desk, quickly deciding he would do it for homework and waste classtime daydreaming about her.

I would treat her well, he thought. I would hold her and call her sweet names, make her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. He smiled just imagining it; her, in his arms, content. His warmth acting as a better, more loving substitute for a blanket, covering her figure as she rested. His hand going up to stroke her hair, his free hand rubbing her sides soothingly.

The bell rung. Y/N stood up, her two friends rushing to her side. Leo, the one with dark skin that glowed during golden hour and hair that was so curly and voluminous it would have any guy falling to her feet, was pointing to Mason and giggling. He felt humiliated. They had been making fun of him.

Before he got up out of his seat, he heard Y/N saying farewells to her friends. His confusion got the best of him as he glanced at the doorway, only to see she was waiting for what appeared to be him.

His heart began to beat quicker. There's no way Y/N L/N, the school's very own icon, was waiting for Mason Thames, a lowlife with an acting career nobody cares to acknowledge. Well, not nobody.

He approached her, his backpack slightly weighing him down and slowing his walk. He stopped in front of her and she smiled. Blush was blotched on his cheeks and he knew he had heart eyes.

"You're Mason, right? Mason Thames?" She asked. Mason didn't answer. He only nodded.

"You're an amazing actor," She complimented, beginning to walk. Mason scurried to her side, striving for her voice again. "You're preformance as Finney was nothing short of spectacular. Really, you're good."

Mason blushed. The tips of his ears turned red and his voice was cracking as he answered. "Th- um, thank you! I really appreciate i- it." She giggled. He could have fainted right then and there. She stopped at her locker, dropping her backpack on the floor and taking out unneeded textbooks. She entered the correct combination and the lock released, the door opening at her touch. She layed the books adjacent to spare bottles of perfume, sticks of deodorant, rings, gym shorts, and even her green libero volleyball jersey she only wore on occasion.

"You're a really good hitter," He complimented. "You have a good arm."

"Is it mint, Bruce?" She teased, quoting his movie. He smiled. She really did watch it.

He nodded his head. "Absolutely."

She turned back to her locker and got out ner notebook. She turned to a random page and ripped off a corner, her hands swiftly unzipping her pencil pouch next. She took out a pen with blue ink, writing a sequence of numbers. She pressed it to his chest with her index and middle finger, taking her P.E. clothes out in the process. She slung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Call me." She said. Mason watched as she walked away, admiring her just as he did in English class, wanting to jump around and squeal out of excitement and joy.

Him, Mason Thames, had gotten the Popular Girl's number. He was nothing less than proud of himself. He grinned victoriously and strided to his locker, quickly dialing the combination and taking out his needed books, heading to his next class.

Today was his day. He could feel it, all because of Y/N.