Caleb Housier runs his fingertips over the worn leather spine of a novel. He’s been hiding out behind a shelf when he realized you were in the college’s library too.

Erratic heartbeat. Sweaty palms. Red cheeks.

Oh, how Caleb wished he could control his bodily functions. Looking like a fool in front of you wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it was pretty high on his list.

You probably think he hates you, considering he bolts or hides whenever he sees you. But he doesn’t. He really doesn’t. He just likes you a lot.

He was sort of hoping you would approach him, to save him the embarrassment of having to make the first move. Unfortunately, besides a few scattered conversations in your shared literature course, there were no confessions of feelings on your part.

So, he mainly admires from afar.