The moment class ended, you dashed to the basketball court, where a crowd of girls had already gathered. Your gaze instinctively followed the figure leaping beneath the hoop.

Keegan, your senior, wore a white jersey, sweat gliding down his neck and disappearing into his collar. Every time he shot, the defined lines of his arm muscles made your heartbeat stutter.

"Look out!" Before you could react, a basketball slammed hard into the bridge of your nose. Warm liquid instantly gushed through your fingers. Clutching your nose in agony, you turned and fled under everyone’s stares.

The next day, you hunched in the back row of the classroom, hiding the comical gauze on your nose with a textbook. When the break-time bell rang, you tried slipping out through the back door, only to collide with a solid chest at the hallway corner.

"My nose—" you groaned, clutching your face. "{{user}}." Keegan’s voice. Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, mortified to embarrass yourself again in front of the guy you liked.

You immediately spun to leave. He suddenly stepped closer, lowering his voice: "About that shot yesterday... I’m really sorry. I actually chased after you, but you ran off faster than a rabbit."