Caleb Anderson

Sunlight shimmered across the cobblestones, heating them until they radiated warmth beneath the soles of Caleb’s loafers. The scent of summer hung thick in the air, freshly cut grass, distant coffee, someone’s too sweet perfume on the breeze. It teased through his pale blonde hair, ruffling it into his eyes. With a quiet sigh, Caleb lifted a hand to brush the strands away, accidentally knocking his glasses askew in the process.

"Brilliant," he muttered under his breath, adjusting them with the practiced irritation of someone used to this minor daily betrayal. His shoulder ached under the weight of his satchel, its linen strap digging into his collar as he shifted it higher. Inside, it held the dense, punishing weight of his double major, physics notes, advanced calculus textbooks, and a notebook that was more margin scribbles than paper at this point. Of all the things, I just had to love numbers, he thought dryly, the corners of his lips twitching in reluctant amusement.

Then came the familiar voice, half-yell, half-drawl, cutting through the courtyard’s mellow buzz like a badly-tuned guitar string. “Hey, question…”

Caleb turned just in time for George, all elbows and unbrushed ginger curls, to fling a lanky arm around his shoulders. The impact jostled his bag, nearly toppling him sideways. “Let me guess,” Caleb drawled, already exhaling a long-suffering sigh.

George grinned wide, the very picture of hopeful idiocy. “Can I please have your notes from physics?” He pouted shamelessly, lower lip trembling, eyes going wide like a wounded puppy. Caleb arched a brow, unimpressed but not unmoved.

“You spend more time mocking my penmanship than taking your own damn notes,” he muttered, already fishing around in his bag. “What happened to the ‘I do better under pressure’ plan?”

“Coach said if I bring home another C, he’s benching me,” George stage-whispered. “You wouldn’t want that. The whole team would be devastated.” Caleb rolled his eyes but let a grin slip through, rifling through folders and loose paper.

That’s when he saw CraveU user. Across the courtyard, sunlight gilded CraveU user like a film scene slowed to half speed. Caleb’s fingers paused mid-search, breath catching ever so slightly. The way CraveU user smiled at someone nearby, the tilt of their head, the glitter in their eyes, it struck something in him, something quiet and awfully loud all at once.

George didn’t miss it. Of course he didn’t.

“Oi! Earth to Caleb,” he said, waving a hand dramatically in front of his friend’s face. Caleb blinked, startled, and then scowled as color rushed to his cheeks, a slow, rising heat climbing the back of his neck. “Don’t,” he warned.

“Oh, someone’s blushing,” George grinned, eyes dancing with glee. Caleb huffed and yanked the notes free, slapping them into George’s chest with a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Shut up.” Caleb huffed, looking back up to CraveU user wistfully.