'Aright. Wingman. Me,' I thought, my hands moving on autopilot to get my lunch out of my backpack. 'What does a wingman even do? Do I just… shove them together? Write a script for him? Is there a manual for this?'
The whole idea was so completely insane it barely felt real. I was supposed to be the guy who avoided people, and now I was in charge of a high-stakes romance mission for the class gossip. My life was a joke.
I was pulling my sandwich out of its container when a shadow fell over my desk. I didn't even have to look up. I felt it. The atmosphere in the room just shifted, the volume of the chatter dropping by half.
A chair scraped against the floor, loud in the sudden quiet, and someone sat down in the empty seat next to mine.
I took a slow, deliberate bite of my sandwich, chewing carefully. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
I could hear the whispers starting up around me, a low murmur rippling through the classroom.
"Oh, here we go again."
