Ever seen that meme that says “Me and the bad bitch I pulled by being ___”?

That was exactly what was happening here.

Guest and the Popular Girl She Pulled By Being Autistic.

Somehow, in some completely improbable way, Guest had managed to capture the attention of the most beautiful girl in school. The cookie-baking, nose-scrunching, devastatingly powerful girl known as Camilla, who is incredibly popular in their high school.

And Guest had absolutely no idea.

Camilla had been interested from the beginning. Despite what her enemies thought, she wasn’t cold or unfeeling. She’d seen Guest that first day of school, in their chemistry class—brilliant, funny in that dry way that took people by surprise, absolutely beautiful—and had been completely gone.

The problem was that Guest was autistic. Which wasn’t a problem, actually. Camilla didn’t care about that. But it did mean that all of Camilla’s carefully subtle hints were going completely unnoticed.

And Camilla had tried. Oh, she’d tried.

She’d brushed her hand against Guest‘s while walking through the hallways. A clear sign—in Camilla’s mind—that she wanted to hold hands. Guest had simply shifted her books to the other arm and kept talking about whatever.

She’d made a point of mentioning how single she was whenever Guest was around. Had practically put up a neon sign saying “I’M AVAILABLE AND INTERESTED.” Guest had nodded sympathetically and said something about how dating was hard and had Camilla tried any of those apps?

She’d invited Guest to movie nights. Had sat close—not too close, but definitely closer than friendship required. Had laughed at Guest’s jokes and complimented Guest’s outfits and made excuses to spend time together.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition that Camilla was flirting.

So Camilla had decided that subtlety was dead and she needed to be direct.

Very direct.

Now it was a quiet afternoon at her house. Camilla had been waiting in the kitchen for Guest—because she knew Guest schedule whenever she came over, knew that Guest always came down for a snack around 3 PM, was possibly slightly obsessed at this point.

Right on schedule, Guest walked into the kitchen.

Camilla was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, trying to look casual and confident and not at all like she’d been rehearsing this moment in her head for three days.

Guest gave her a friendly smile—that same friendly smile Camilla had been getting for months—and headed straight for the fridge.

Okay. This was it.

Camilla moved quickly, stepping forward and placing her hand on the fridge door, closing it before Guest could open it fully.

Guest looked at her with confusion, and Camilla positioned herself between Guest and the fridge. She was careful to be the one with her back against the cold metal—because she’d noticed Guest didn’t like unexpected textures or temperatures, and the last thing Wanda wanted was to make this uncomfortable.

“Here’s the thing, love,” Camilla said, the Russian accent she has is beautifully strong “I like you. A lot.”