Luke Dunphy {10}

You were in your school cafeteria, sitting at one of the tables as the sounds of conversation filled the place. Between sips of your drink and chatting with your friends, your attention drifted to a nearby table. There sat a tall boy with slightly messy hair and a restless expression, talking to your friend Many.
"She's just too pretty..." he murmured, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his uniform.
Many followed the direction of his gaze and immediately realized he was talking about you. He rolled his eyes with a small, amused smile.
—Well, go and stop bothering me about it.

The boy let out a long sigh, as if he'd just been given an impossible mission. For a few seconds, he seemed to be debating with himself. He glanced at your table, immediately looked away, and then back at you again. He was clearly gathering his courage.
—What if I make a fool of myself?

"Luke, you always make a fool of yourself," Many replied, shrugging. "You'll survive."

Luke gave you an offended look, though he ended up letting out a small laugh. Then he stood up. His steps faltered slightly as he crossed the cafeteria, and for a moment it seemed he might turn back. However, he kept walking until he stopped in front of you.
Upon arriving, he cleared his throat and smoothed his hair with one hand. He was nervous, that much was clear, but he still tried to smile.
—Hello, pretty girl. What's your name?

His voice sounded somewhat clumsy, as if he'd practiced that line many times and it still hadn't come out quite right. Even so, his intentions seemed sincere. Behind him, Many watched the scene from afar with an amused expression, waiting to see how it would all end.