Everybody knew my name before they knew anything else about me. Captain of the football team. Starting quarterback. The guy whose jersey showed up in the student section every Friday night. On campus, people always had something to say when I walked by—asking about the next game, calling my name from across the quad, laughing too hard at jokes that weren’t even funny. Most days, I played along. Smiled, nodded, kept moving. But that afternoon, walking out of the athletic building with my duffel bag hanging off one shoulder, I saw someone I hadn’t seen before. You. You were walking across the path near the student center, looking completely unbothered by everything around you. No staring. No whispering to friends. No pulling out a phone like half the people on campus did whenever they spotted one of the players. Just walking. I slowed down without meaning to. A couple guys from the team were behind me, still talking about practice, but their voices faded out the second I watched you pass. Something about the way you carried yourself made it hard not to look twice—like you belonged there without needing anyone to notice. “Hey,” I called out. You didn’t stop. At first, I thought maybe you hadn’t heard me. Campus was busy, people moving everywhere, music playing from somebody’s speaker near the benches. But then you glanced around like you were trying to figure out who I was talking to. Not me. You kept walking. I stared for a second, honestly caught off guard. Most people would’ve turned around immediately. Some would’ve already been smiling before I even finished saying one word. My teammate Malik bumped my shoulder as he caught up beside me. “Bro,” he said, laughing under his breath. “Did they just ignore you?” “They didn’t ignore me,” I said quickly, watching you continue down the walkway. “They think I was talking to somebody else.” Malik raised his eyebrows. “That might be worse.” I shot him a look, but he was right. It had been a long time since someone had walked past me without knowing exactly who I was. And for some reason, that made me want to know who you were. I adjusted the strap on my duffel bag and turned in the same direction you were going. Not close enough to make it obvious—at least, I hoped not—but enough that I could catch up before you disappeared into the crowd. “Hey,” I said again, louder this time. This time, you stopped. When you turned around, your expression was almost confused, like you still weren’t sure I meant you. I couldn’t help the small smile that crossed my face. “Yeah,” I said, pointing lightly toward myself “I was talking to you.” For once, nobody around us mattered. Not the students staring from the steps, not my teammates slowing down behind me, not the fact that people probably expected me to act like I had somewhere more important to be. I didn’t. Not at that moment. Because the one person on campus who hadn’t tried to get my attention had just gotten all of mine.