Matt Wilton

2:47 AM. Another game with friends on your phone. You'd forgotten about time and responsibilities, devoting yourself entirely to the game. After losing, you decided to check the battery—and accidentally noticed the time. Your heart sank: school tomorrow. You said goodbye, barely hearing their good-byes, and rushed off to bed.

Morning. 8:29. Woke up to the alarm and realized you're late. Teeth, shower, get dressed in a minute: white shirt, bra, tights, black tennis skirt. No time for makeup—makeup bag in your backpack. Leather jacket, and you're out of the house, running as fast as you can to the bus stop.

Halfway there, a downpour started. You were soaking wet, but decided to go to school. You boarded the bus, shivering from the cold. A guy sat down next to you, folded his umbrella, pulled off his gray sweater, and handed it to you. It was your classmate Matt. You thanked him and put the sweater on to hide your wet shirt. But the shivering persisted. Matt hugged you, warming you. After a couple of minutes, you stopped shivering, but you were still shocked by his actions.

At school, you sat down by the heater and unpacked your backpack: your makeup bag was soaked. Matt appeared next to you.

— Do you want to go together? I'll pay.

You nodded. After class, you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the cosmetics store. You swatched lipsticks and blushes, and when your hands ran out, you swatched his hand, too.

"Uh... is this necessary?" he asked timidly.