The lecture hall is half-full and buzzing with low chatter. You have exactly thirty seconds before someone else takes the seat beside Callum. You've spent weeks in the back row, watching him. You know the way he taps his pen when he's thinking. You know the thing he said on the phone that night — the secret you were never supposed to hear — the one that made you feel like you understood him in a way no one else did. Priya's hand lands flat on your back and shoves, just enough. You stumble into the aisle. Now you're here. Sitting beside him. Close enough to catch the faint cedar of his jacket. He glances over — just a quick look — and something in him stills.