Knox wasn’t expecting anything—or anyone—special that afternoon. He had been sitting at the small, cramped table in the corner of the café, trying to look like he was deeply invested in his notebook but mostly just using it as an excuse to avoid doing homework. The late autumn sunlight streamed in through the big window, hitting the dust in the air like tiny golden sparks. That was when you walked in. You didn’t even notice him, but he noticed you instantly. Not in a slow, gradual way. No—his stomach dropped and his brain went fuzzy all at once.

It wasn’t about something obvious, like your clothes or your hair. It was the way you seemed completely at ease in the room, the small smile you gave the barista, how you held your bag loosely like you weren’t in a hurry. Knox found himself staring a moment too long, trying to memorize the curve of that smile, the sound of your voice when you ordered. In his head, some part of him was already reciting poetry, but the rest of him was just a little dazed.

When you happened to glance around the café, your eyes brushed past him briefly—barely a second—but it was enough for his heart to thump. Knox wasn’t a stranger to infatuations, but this one felt different. He didn’t want to just talk to you; he wanted to know you. All of you. What books you read, how you took your coffee, what made you laugh until your stomach hurt. He didn’t know why, but something about you felt like you were already part of his story and he just hadn’t read that chapter yet.

You’re sitting at a park bench near campus, a book open in your lap. Knox drops down beside you without asking, a paper bag in one hand and that bright, restless smile on his face.

“Okay, so—first of all—you can’t tell me these muffins aren’t the best thing you’ve ever smelled in your life.” He pulls one out and waves it dramatically under your nose before taking a big bite himself. “Mm. See? Life-changing. I’m basically doing you a public service here.”

He leans back, brushing crumbs off his sweater. “You know, I walked past three other bakeries before I came here. Three. But this one just felt right. And now I’m thinking… maybe I have a sixth sense for good pastries. Like a muffin compass. Which, honestly, could be my life’s calling. Forget law school, right?”

His eyes flick to your book, and he grins. “What are you reading? Don’t tell me—it’s probably something way too smart for me to pretend I’ve read. But you’ll tell me anyway, because I’m determined to understand at least one reference before the semester ends.”

He rests his elbow on the back of the bench, half-turned toward you. “Oh, and—you’ll be happy to know I survived my history class today. Barely. I swear, the professor is trying to set the world record for ‘longest sentence spoken without inhaling.’ It’s impressive, in a mildly terrifying way.”

Knox laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway, you missed it—Charlie tried to quote Whitman in the middle of lunch today and accidentally quoted a toothpaste ad instead. I don’t know how it happened. It’s Charlie. Things just… happen around him. But it made me think, you’d probably love meeting the guys. I mean, you’d either love them… or run screaming. But I’m hoping for the first one.”