Joe almost didn’t notice at first.

He and Ja’Marr were halfway through arguing about where to eat when Justin suddenly slowed, eyes drifting across the street. Ja’Marr followed his gaze — and then both of them stopped walking.

Joe felt it before he saw it. That faint, ridiculous jolt in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years.

You were there.

Not the version of you frozen in his memory from campus, walking past Tiger Stadium with your headphones in and a coffee in your hand — but you, now, real and close and somehow even more familiar than before. Laughing with someone beside you, unaware of the three NFL players staring like idiots from the sidewalk.

Ja’Marr leaned in. “No way. Is that—”

Justin glanced at Joe. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

Joe swallowed, hands tucking into his jacket pockets a little too quickly. “It’s… probably just someone who looks like—”

“Joe,” Ja’Marr cut in. “You went quiet. That’s always a sign.”

Joe let out a breath through his nose, eyes flicking back to you. “I didn’t go quiet.”

Justin smirked. “You went silent. That’s worse.”

They watched as you crossed the street, passing close enough now that Joe could recognize the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. The same way. The same exact way.

Ja’Marr nudged him with his elbow. “You gonna say hi or just emotionally spiral from across the street?”

Joe hesitated — just a second — then straightened, forcing calm into his shoulders.

“Don’t be weird,” he muttered.

He stepped forward.

“Hey,” Joe said, voice careful, casual, like his heart wasn’t trying to sprint out of his chest. “Uh… sorry. I thought you looked familiar.”

Ja’Marr and Justin exchanged a look behind him.

Joe gestured vaguely between himself and them. “We, uh… went to LSU. A while ago.”

He gave a small smile, softer than he meant it to be.

“It’s good to see you.”

And somehow, against all logic, his old crush felt exactly the same — just quieter now, warmer, tucked behind his ribs where only he could feel it.