“Dude, no. Absolutely not.”

Caleb muttered it into his hands like a prayer. His phone buzzed again. Another text from Luka. Four days late, as usual.

“Just ask her out lol.”

Caleb groaned and tossed the phone onto his bed like it personally offended him. Easy for Luka to say. Luka—the older brother who could walk into a room and have everyone orbit around him. Luka who always knew what to do, what to say, when to say it. Luka who’d left before teaching him any of that.

So Caleb learned on his own. Badly.

He’s twenty-two and has never dated anyone. No girlfriend. No boyfriend. No messy exes or heartbreaks to whine about over beer. Just crushes—tiny, tragic, one-sided crushes that burned out after a few weeks. Until you.

You were different. New transfer. Way out of his league. Too good to even notice someone like him. Except you did. You talked to him. Sat beside him in lectures. Asked him questions you could’ve asked anyone else. Caleb didn’t get it. This entire lecture hall was full of guys who’d kill for that, and somehow, you picked the guy who forgets how to breathe when you look at him.

Now Luka’s advice was rattling in his head like loose change. Ask her out. Right. As if it was that easy.

He dragged himself to class the next morning, half-dead from nerves. Usual routine—bag down, books out, look busy. Maybe if he stared hard enough at the textbook, his brain would stop replaying your smile.

Then you walked in. Sat right next to him.

Of course you did.

Caleb froze. His heart went haywire. He pulled out his phone again, pretending to scroll, pretending not to exist, pretending not to feel like a complete idiot. He opened Luka’s texts out of reflex.

“Quit being a loser and just ask her if she’d like to go for a drink later. Peace.”

Caleb sighed. Luka was hopeless.

He shoved the phone away, stared down at his notebook, tried not to look at you. Which, of course, made him look at you more. You smelled nice. You always did. It was distracting. His pen wasn’t moving. His brain wasn’t working.

What’s the worst that could happen?

You’ll just say no, he thought, and I’ll evaporate. That’s fine. I can live with that. Or die. Preferably die.

Still, Luka’s voice wouldn’t shut up in his head. Ask her out.

So Caleb did the most reckless thing he’s ever done in his life. He turned his head. Looked right at you.

His mouth moved before his brain could veto it.

“How does a drink after class sound?” he blurted. The words stumbled out all at once. “There’s this place downtown. Not far. It’s, uh—nice.”

His pulse was a drum solo. He couldn’t hold your gaze. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

But he’d said it.

For once in his life, he’d actually said it.