The cool morning breeze raises goosebumps on my skin, causing me to pull my chunky cream cardigan tighter around my body. I quickly came to realize that transitioning to fall means having to change from warm sweaters and hoodies into light t-shirts and tank tops as the day goes on. Coming up with an efficient and effective system took me a few tries, but I found jeans and t-shirts or summer dresses under oversized jackets and sweaters worked best.

I'm not expecting Tristan to join me at the stop today since he has his car back from wherever it was previously, so it came as surprise to hear his footsteps approaching from behind. It also came to surprise as to how he was dressed.

Tristan's normal t-shirt, dark jeans, and combat boot combination is swapped for a silky black button down, rolled to his elbows, tucked into gray straight-legged trousers and shiny black loafers. Even the dull silver stud that usually resides in his right nostril was replaced with a small diamond. I didn't think it was possible for him to look even more handsome than he already does. He just went from hottest boy in school to hottest business man in the universe.

He catches me looking him up and down, a neutral expression plastered on his face. He doesn't offer a reason for why he was out of his normal clothes, though I'm sure my questioning and lustful gaze was begging for one.

"Why are you so dressed up?" I prompt him. Maybe today we can have a normal conversation. We almost had one yesterday when he had dropped me home after school. Granted, only a couple more words than our first conversation were exchanged, but it was progress nonetheless.

"Presentation," he replies, staring off into the distance.

He already has a presentation? It's only the second week of school! What class is he taking that could possibly be assigning students presentations this early in the semester?

Oh God, he's in like all of my classes! Do I have a presentation to give that I don't know about? I quickly look down my body to scan my clothes, silently judging if it would pass as appropriate. Cardigan, black t-shirt dress, heeled ankle boots. I think this is okay. But what class is the presentation for? There's no way that it could be whatever he takes last period since I've seen him either roaming the halls or in the library. He has to be in study hall at that time.

I turn to ask him when we have a presentation, but the school bus pulls up in front of us and he steps on quickly. Damn it.

The entire way to school, I'm frantically texting Nicole asking her if she's absolutely sure that we don't have to present in any of our shared classes. After she has reassured me several times over text, and a couple more in person when I met her at her locker, I relax a little.

But just to make sure, I ask a few people in my other classes if we have any presentations to give today. I think I scared a few people, but most of them looked at me as if I was crazy for thinking we would have one when school has barely started.

In each of my classes throughout the day, I look back over my shoulder to find Tristan writing furiously in his notebook. Other students took notice of his unusual attire, but for the most part didn't say much. I don't know why, but I kept waiting for something to happen that would explain his appearance, but each class proceeded as normal.

By the time lunch rolls around, I was still thoroughly confused and feeling defeated. No explanation has surfaced and, even though Tristan was turning more heads than in a typical day, I seemed to be the only one that needed one.

I sit down at the small lunch table with Nicole and Nate, a few of Nate's friends choosing to join us. Everyday, random people would join us for lunch, some being Nicole and Nate's other friends, some being the few acquaintances I have met in class. The three of us were the only constants, sitting at the same table, in the same seats.

"Okay, so what is up with Tristan going all CEO on us today?" Nate's friend with deep red hair says, taking a seat next to me. I think her name is Aly? I turn to look at Nicole who is seated on the other side of me, raising my eyebrows to indicate that I'm not the only one who is still asking questions.

"Why is everyone obsessed with him today?" Brian, another one of Nate's friends, sighs. He's obviously tired of all the attention Tristan is getting today.

"Seriously," Nate adds to the conversation. "The dude shows up in a button down ONCE, and it's all you girls can talk about. Get over it already." He takes a bite of his sandwich and makes a face. "Nicole, I think this is yours."

The two throw each other their rightful sandwiches across the table and dig in. I pick around my tofu and rice, not really bringing any substantial forkfuls to my mouth. The rest of the table continues to chatter, something about homecoming and invites to some Halloween thing. It's a little early to be thinking about that holiday since it's still the middle of September, so I tune them out.

I lift my eyes from my lunch and look across the cafeteria. I don't mean to, but I find my eyes wandering over to Tristan's table. His two friends, Logan and Oliver, are there eating their lunches. Where's Tristan? His spot between the two other guys is vacant, neither one of them making a move to sit there. Maybe they are expecting him to join them later.

But the lunch period continues with no sign of him ever showing up. The bell rings, releasing the entire student population to its last class of the day. I look down to see that I haven't even made a dent in my lunch, so I close the lid of my container and toss it carelessly into my bag, planning on just keeping it in the fridge at home for another time.

"Come on, we're going to be late," Nicole whines, pushing me out of the cafeteria towards AP Calc.

"I didn't realize you were such a math fanatic," I laugh at my friend.

"I just don't want to be tardy," she says, still pushing me in front of her through the hallways. "I racked up enough late slips last year to last a lifetime. So pick up the pace!"

I look over my shoulder and shake my head at her, but start to walk faster so she would stop pushing me. Satisfied, Nicole falls in step beside me as we race to our class.

Moving this fast through a crowded hallway doesn't stop me from looking around for a head of ink black hair towering above everyone else. I don't see him anywhere. Where did he go?