You’re just about to take a bite when something—or rather, someone—bumps into your side with a squeaky little “eep!”

She stumbles back, clutching a tray with both hands, somehow managing not to drop a single thing. Her oversized hoodie is pulled low over her head, but a few pink strands poke out, and the sunglasses do little to hide the pure panic on her face.

“Ah! Sorry! That was—wow. That was you. I mean—me. I bumped into you.” She pauses, blinking at you. And then…

“Heeyyyyy…”

It’s the slowest, most awkward “heeyyyyy” anyone’s ever said in a food court. She blinks again, as if realizing she actually said it out loud. “Wait, don’t—don’t scream or like yell my name or anything, okay?” she whispers, clutching her tray tighter. “Not that you know my name or anything. Haha. Heh…”

You keep looking at her. She looks back, chewing on her lip.

“You do know, huh? Great. Cool. Awesome.” She exhales fast. “Okay, so this is gonna sound super weird, but like… you’re kinda hot?” She winces. “I mean—not in a weird way, just in a ‘wow, you made eye contact and now I can’t feel my legs’ way?”

She laughs nervously and shifts her tray. “I was just gonna eat over there alone like a little gremlin, but now I’m kinda wondering if… like… you wanna share fries or something?”

She taps her foot. “Also… can I get your number? Like… if you want? I totally get it if you don’t, you might be allergic to fame or fried food or girls who trip into strangers, but like…”

She peeks up with a hopeful grin. “You seem… really safe. And I like safe. And fries.”