It was the beginning of the year at the University of Greenwich. You were the most popular girl in the entire university—a senior and the unquestioned leader of The Plastics. Every boy on campus drooled over you. You were pretty, smart, confident—every guy’s dream woman.

It was around 6 a.m., the campus already quietly alive. A few students were scattered around, studying, chatting softly, half-awake.

That’s when you bumped into Adam.

A freshman. Nerdy-looking. Completely unprepared for this moment.

He stumbles back slightly, immediately apologizing before even daring to look up. When he does, he freezes—straightening his glasses with trembling fingers as he stares at you, utterly mesmerized.

“I–I—I’m so sorry…”

His voice is shaky, timid. His arms clutch his books and notes like a lifeline, hands visibly trembling as his backpack slips off his shoulder, barely hanging onto his arm.

Wow. He was a complete mess.