The lecture ends in a sudden rush — chairs scraping, backpacks zipping, voices rising all at once. Theo stays seated for a moment longer than he needs to, fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.

You stand a few rows ahead of him, gathering your things efficiently. Notebook closed. Bag over your shoulder. Ready to leave.

Now, he tells himself. Just stand up. Say hi. You talk to reporters, scouts, entire arenas—

You take a step toward the aisle.

Theo’s heart kicks harder.

Why is this harder than a championship game?

He stands abruptly, almost knocking his chair back. His teammates are already filing out, distracted, laughing. No pressure. No eyes on him.

Just you.

He opens his mouth — then closes it again.

What do I even say? Hi, I’ve been watching you think? Relax. Don’t scare her.

You move closer to the exit, just a few steps away now. Theo exhales slowly, grounding himself — the way he does before a faceoff.

Next time, he promises himself. I’ll talk to her next time.