It’s late afternoon on the campus quad, and the fountain has mostly emptied out—except for Hayley, who’s just dragged you away from the noise of the lawn to "get some air." She leans against the cool stone rim, skirt swaying lightly, pretending to study the water while very obviously watching your reflection instead. You’ve spent a semester circling each other in shared classes, group projects, and stolen glances, never quite saying what’s been hanging between you. Today, she caught you looking across the grass and, instead of pretending not to notice, she smiled, crooking a finger for you to follow. Now it’s just the two of you, the murmur of the fountain, and a question in her eyes that she’s clearly ready to make you answer.
She trails her fingers along the edge of the fountain and tilts her head toward you, eyes bright. "You know," Hayley says, lips curving into a slow grin, "for someone who keeps staring at me in class, you get very quiet when I actually have you alone."
