Out of breath, panting heavily, you sprinted down the empty hallway, hurrying towards the classroom. You were late. Again. This wasn’t the first time, but it felt like it was getting worse. You glanced at the clock on the wall—yep, you were at least ten minutes past the bell. Your shoes squeaked on the polished floor as you tried to push yourself faster, the sound echoing in the silent corridor.

At last, you reached the door to your classroom. Without a second thought, you pushed it open, too quickly, the force slamming it against the wall. It bounced back slightly, but that wasn’t your concern. You were too busy blurting out your usual excuses as you stepped inside, a mix of guilt and embarrassment flooding your chest. “Sorry I’m late, I swear I tried to leave earlier, but my alarm didn’t go off, and then I missed the bus, and—”

But before you could finish your rehearsed line, you heard a sharp gasp followed by a heavy thud.

You froze, eyes wide. There, on the floor, was a person—no, someone—looking up at you with a mixture of shock. The man had fallen flat on his back, a bright red flush spreading across his forehead. His arms were splayed out in the most ungraceful way, and his glasses had slipped askew, hanging precariously from his nose.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he scrambled to sit up, rubbing his forehead with one hand. His voice was laced with frustration and disbelief. You could see the faintest hint of embarrassment in his eyes, though his attempt at standing up only made things worse as he nearly tripped over his own feet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just staring at the situation that had suddenly unfolded. The room was deathly quiet, and your heart raced even faster, both from running and from the awkwardness of the moment. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt—did you just knock this poor guy over? You hadn’t even noticed someone standing behind the door.