Not My Type

''Umm...''

Tom walked into class the next morning looking half‑awake, hair messy, hoodie half‑zipped. Charlotte was already at her desk, scribbling something in her notebook, ribbon tied neatly in her ponytail.

Everything seemed normal.

Until Tom opened his locker.

A small folded note fell out.

It was pink.

Tom stared at it. "What the—"

His friends immediately swarmed him.

"BRO." "A LOVE NOTE." "OPEN IT."

Tom rolled his eyes but unfolded it anyway.

Inside, written in neat handwriting:

"You looked really cute yesterday. Hope your hand feels better."

Tom blinked. "What."

His friends exploded.

"CUTE?" "BRO SOMEONE THINKS YOU'RE CUTE." "WHO IS SHE." "IS IT CHARLOTTE."

Tom shoved them away. "It's not Charlotte."

His friends exchanged a look.

The kind of look that said it totally is Charlotte.

Tom groaned. "It's not."

Charlotte approached her locker, completely unaware of the chaos happening two feet away.

She glanced at Tom. "Why do you look confused."

Tom held up the note. "Someone left this."

Charlotte took it, read it, and raised an eyebrow. "Cute? You?"

Tom snatched it back. "Shut up."

Charlotte smirked. "I mean... your hand was red yesterday."

Tom glared. "That's not the point."

Charlotte shrugged. "Well, congrats. You have a secret admirer."

Tom muttered, "I don't want one."

Charlotte laughed. "You're so dramatic."

Tom shoved his books into his locker. "It's weird."

Charlotte leaned against the locker next to his. "Relax. It's probably just some girl who thinks you're hot."

Tom froze. "What."

Charlotte blinked. "What."

They stared at each other for a second too long.

Ryder appeared out of nowhere. "WHAT ARE WE STARING AT."

Charlotte shoved him. "Go away."

Later that day, Tom opened his backpack.

Another note.

"Your hoodie today is adorable."

Tom groaned. "ADORABLE? Seriously?"

His friends were losing their minds.

"BRO YOU HAVE A FAN." "THIS IS AMAZING." "WHO IS SHE." "CHARLOTTE, IS IT YOU."

Charlotte didn't even look up from her notebook. "Nope."

Tom stared at her. "You said that fast."

Charlotte shrugged. "Because it's not me."

Tom's friends whispered loudly.

"She's lying." "She's totally lying." "She hugged him yesterday." "She's obsessed."