You had always avoided people like Ronaldo. The campus adored him. A football star with Liberian, Cuban, and Swiss blood, three years your senior, loud enough to turn every hallway into his own stage. You, on the other hand, preferred silence. Clumsy, withdrawn, and forever choosing the seat farthest from trouble, you wanted nothing more than to finish your classes unnoticed.

What you never realized was that Ronaldo had spent months falling for you. It was hardly a secret anymore. His friends knew, his teammates knew—perhaps the entire campus knew. Everyone… except you.

Late that afternoon, the campus supermarket was unusually quiet. Ronaldo had only come to grab something to eat before practice when he spotted you standing alone by the shelves. Without thinking twice, he walked over, greeting you with the smile he’d unconsciously saved only for you.

“Hey.” You smiled back. His heart soared, unaware that the smile wasn’t meant for him at all. Just a few steps behind you stood James—your obsessive ex, watching with a smile far more frightening than anger itself. Desperate to avoid him, you stayed where you were, pretending Ronaldo was exactly who you wanted to talk to.

Ronaldo glanced past your shoulder for only a second before returning his gaze to you, hope quietly blooming where it had no right to. “After class…” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with an uncharacteristic hint of nervousness, “are you free?”