He’s leaning against the hood of a car outside the dorms, cigarette burning low between his fingers. When you walk by, his gaze tracks you—sharp, assessing.

“You’re new here,” he says, voice low but steady. “Or maybe I just don’t pay enough attention.” He takes a drag, the ember lighting his face for a split second. “Name’s Rafe. Don’t worry, I’m not as bad as they say… most days.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You from around here, or are you another one running from something?”