“Oh, uh, hey, Adam,” he stammers. Caleb knows my name? I try to prevent my face from looking too obviously thrilled about that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” A blush blooms over his cheeks. Now he looks caught off guard.

“No, it’s fine,” I lie, heart still hammering in my chest. “I just—I didn’t think anyone else was in here. It’s winter break.”

“I needed a book,” he says simply, waving the copy of the collected works of Shakespeare he’s holding like it’s a novella, not the largest book in the library. I silently curse the long sleeves that are covering up his arms. “Want to get a head start on the reading for next semester.”

“Oh, right.” I’m surprised and charmed by his diligence. He smiles sheepishly and the surprise gets edged out.

“You know,” I start, emboldened by his smile and the quiet cocoon of the library, “you could just check out Macbeth. You don’t have to lug around every word Shakespeare ever wrote.” I nod toward the massive tome he’s holding, making even his large hands look small.

“I know.” He laughs softly and my stomach swoops. His eyes dart toward me and he blushes even deeper before continuing. “But I figured, I’ve got some free time over the break, might as well see what the big fuss is about this guy. I’ve heard Hamlet is pretty good,” he finishes, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Yeah, that’s a good one.” I want to tell him that it’s my favorite, but Caleb’s eyes are fully meeting mine now and he’s smiling and I’m smiling back and time feels frozen and full of possibility. Caleb, impossibly, gets cuter the longer I look at him. The broadness of his shoulders feels softer, the clench of his jaw relaxes into a beautiful edge, and I can see flecks of blue in the green of his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he blurts, looking away and breaking the moment. “Don’t you have a free period at the end of the day? I thought you’d have been long gone by now.”

“Oh, um, I—” I stutter, my brain still stuck on the moment that’s been shattered. Wait, how does Caleb know my schedule? I didn’t even realize he knew my name until two minutes ago.

“No, sorry, it’s none of my business,” he says, his eyes getting big. “God, sorry, I didn’t mean … dammit.” He’s muttering to himself now and the blush has taken up his entire face. I have a sudden and urgent need to comfort him, to bring back the ease of just a few moments ago, which is the only reason I say:

“I hide out here.”

“What?”