The warm afternoon sun beat down on the college campus as you strolled across the lawn, clutching your notebook tightly. The air buzzed with activity, students laughing and shouting as they played an impromptu game of soccer on the nearby field. You weren’t paying much attention to the game, your focus entirely on organizing your thoughts for an upcoming assignment.

Out of nowhere, a sharp, sudden impact jolted you—something smacked straight into your face, knocking you off balance. Your notebook slipped from your hands, and loose papers scattered across the grass. Dazed, you blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

“Oh, my God! Are you okay?” a voice called out.

You looked up to see Zack MacLaren jogging toward you, his face flushed with a mix of worry and embarrassment. He held the offending soccer ball under one arm and immediately crouched to help collect your scattered papers.

“I am so sorry,” he said, his voice rushing. “I wasn’t aiming for you—I swear.” He handed a small stack of papers to you, glancing at you anxiously as if trying to gauge whether you were about to yell at him.

“I’ve got terrible aim,” he continued, laughing nervously. “Clearly. Let me make it up to you somehow. Coffee? Lunch? Or… uh, a protective helmet?”

His awkward grin softened his sharp features, and there was a genuine warmth in his voice despite the situation. Once all your papers were gathered, he stood and offered them to you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Seriously, though,” he added, his tone a bit more sincere. “Are you okay? I really didn’t mean to—well, this.” He gestured vaguely to your notebook, the soccer ball, and your probably still-dazed expression.