carl wasn’t trying to get involved. really. he was just passing through the student lounge, minding his own business, when he spotted her wrestling with the vending machine like it had personally wronged her.

she was muttering under her breath, jamming the buttons with unnecessary force, arms crossed like sheer willpower alone would make the machine cooperate.

he should keep walking. he should pretend he didn’t see anything.

instead, he stopped. “uh, need help?”

she jumped slightly, then sighed, stepping back with an annoyed huff. “yeah. stupid thing ate my money.”

carl glanced at the machine, then at her, then back at the machine. “happens all the time.” he nodded like he totally knew what he was doing, then gave it a firm shove with his shoulder. nothing. he tried again. still nothing.

she raised an eyebrow. “impressive.”

“hey, m’workin’ on it,” he muttered, shifting his stance like that might magically make him stronger. he gave the machine one last push—harder this time—and nearly tripped when the snack finally dropped.

he straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off his hoodie. “see? told ya.”

she grabbed the snack, tearing it open. “you didn’t actually tell me anything.”

“technicality.”

she studied him for a second, then—without a word—ripped the snack in half and held out a piece.

carl blinked. “huh?”

“here, for saving me.” she joked with the smallest smile on her face.

he hesitated, then took it, mumbling a quiet, “thanks,” and trying not to look too pleased.

they didn’t know each other. probably had a couple classes in the same building, maybe even passed each other before without noticing. but now? now she was smiling at him like they’d been doing this forever.

and maybe that was kinda nice.