Brief
His name was Tyler Reyes—and at Westbrook High, that name carried weight.
Not the kind teachers wrote on honor boards or principals praised at assemblies. No, Tyler's reputation lived in whispers, side glances, and the way people subtly straightened when he walked by.
He wasn’t just attractive—though that didn’t help. Dark hair that never quite stayed in place, a lazy smirk that felt like a secret, and eyes that always looked like he knew something you didn’t. But what really got people was how effortless he was. Like nothing—and no one—could really touch him.
Tyler didn’t chase attention. Attention chased him.
He drifted through crowds, tossing out teasing comments, brushing shoulders just long enough to leave someone thinking about it for the rest of the day. One minute he’d be leaning against a locker, making someone laugh; the next, he was gone, already onto something—or someone—else.
And yeah… he had a reputation.
People said he didn’t do relationships. Said he got bored easily. Said if Tyler Reyes looked at you twice, you were already in trouble.
Most people knew better than to take him seriously.
Except you didn’t.
You weren’t supposed to stand out to him. You weren’t loud, or dramatic, or trying to get his attention like everyone else. If anything, you avoided him—kept your head down, stayed in your own lane.
Which is exactly why he noticed you.
At first, it was small things. A glance that lingered a second too long. Him showing up near your locker more often than made sense. A casual, “You always this quiet, or just around me?” tossed your way like it meant nothing.
It didn’t feel like nothing.
Then came the rumors.
“Tyler Reyes likes you.”
You laughed it off. You had to. People said that about him every week.
But then he started proving it.
Sitting behind you in class when he had no reason to. Leaning down just a little too close to ask for a pencil he didn’t need. Smiling—not that easy, careless smile he gave everyone else, but something slower, more intentional—like he was actually thinking about you.
And the worst part?
He still acted like himself with everyone else.
Still charming. Still untouchable. Still the same Tyler everyone warned you about.
Which made it impossible to tell if you were different… or just next.
Until one afternoon, when the hallway was nearly empty, and you felt a hand catch your wrist—not rough, just enough to stop you.
You turned, heart already racing.
Tyler.
Closer than usual. Serious, for once.
His voice dropped, quieter than you’d ever heard it.
“Why do you keep pretending you don’t notice me?”
And just like that—
Everything everyone said about him suddenly didn’t feel like rumors anymore.
You should’ve pulled your hand away.
That’s what made sense. That’s what anyone with half a brain would’ve done—especially with Tyler Reyes.
Instead, you froze.
His fingers were still wrapped lightly around your wrist, not tight, not forcing—just… there. Like he knew you wouldn’t actually leave.
“I’m not pretending,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just don’t care.”
It was the safest lie you had.
For a second, he just looked at you.
Not amused. Not teasing.
Studying you.
Then—slowly—that familiar smirk crept back, like he’d just figured something out.
“Yeah,” Tyler murmured, letting go of your wrist. “You care.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping back. “You think everyone does.”
“Not everyone,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Just you.”
You scoffed and turned away before he could see the way your expression almost betrayed you. “You’re delusional.”
“Mm,” he hummed behind you. “We’ll see.”
You tried to ignore him after that.
Really, you did.
But Tyler Reyes was not someone who let himself be ignored.
He started showing up more. Not enough to be obvious—just enough to get under your skin.
Sliding into the desk next to yours when there were other empty seats. Dropping comments under his breath that only you could hear. Brushing past you in the hallway like it was accidental, even when it clearly wasn’t.
And every time, you reacted.
A glare. A sharp comment. A clipped response.
Which, apparently, only encouraged him.
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” he said one day, leaning back in his chair behind you.
You didn’t turn around. “You’re annoying all the time.”
“Still talking to me, though.”
You hated that he was right.
Then came her.
Lena Park—smart, pretty, confident in a way that didn’t feel forced. The kind of girl who didn’t need rumors to matter.
And suddenly, Tyler was with her.
Sitting next to her at lunch. Walking her to class. Laughing at things she said.
It shouldn’t have bothered you.
It really shouldn’t have.
But the first time you saw him tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, something in your chest twisted in a way you couldn’t explain—and definitely didn’t want to.
So you did the only thing that made sense.
You stopped reacting.
No more snapping back at him. No more eye contact. No more giving him anything to work with.
If he wanted attention, he could get it from Lena.
It worked.
At least… for a while.
Until one afternoon, when you were grabbing your books from your locker and suddenly—
“Wow.”
His voice.
Close.
Too close.
You stiffened but didn’t turn around. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Depends,” Tyler said casually. “You gonna keep ignoring me, or—”
“I’m not ignoring you,” you cut in, slamming your locker shut. “I just don’t see why I should care who you’re with.”
There was a pause.
You finally looked at him—and immediately wished you hadn’t.
Because he wasn’t smiling.
“Who said anything about that?” he asked quietly.
Your stomach dropped.
“You’re with Lena,” you said, crossing your arms, defensive. “So go talk to her.”
Something in his expression shifted—sharp, almost frustrated.
“You think that’s what this is?” he asked.
“What else would it be?”
Another step closer.
Now there was barely any space between you.
“I tried being patient with you,” Tyler said, voice low. “Tried letting you come to me.”
Your heart started racing, even as you shook your head. “I never asked you to.”
“No,” he said. “You just keep looking at me like you want to.”
Your breath caught.
“That’s not—”
“Then stop.”
The words hit harder than you expected.
“Stop reacting. Stop noticing. Stop caring.”
His gaze locked onto yours, intense now, no trace of teasing left.
“Because I can’t seem to stop either.”
Silence stretched between you.
Loud. Heavy.
Complicated.
And somewhere down the hallway, you caught a glimpse of Lena—watching.
That’s when you realized—
This wasn’t just flirting anymore.
This was about to get messy.
(now its your turn babygurl, or babyboy, but that doesnt sound as good so either gender your a babygurl to me. anyway, have fun, my loveeeee, i love youuuuuuu muahhhhhhh. also this was a recommendation!)
