Chapter 1 - The Unexpected Encounter

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows over the sprawling college campus. Late summer still clung to the air, but the promise of autumn lingered, hidden in the cool morning breeze. The quad buzzed with the energy of a new semester, students milling about in groups, reuniting with friends or navigating the unfamiliar territory of their new environment.

Among the crowd, Dylan Walker stood out like a beacon. At six-foot-three, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jawline, and the kind of easy confidence that only comes from years of being the best at everything he tried, Dylan was the epitome of the college jock. His letterman jacket, worn despite the warmth, clung to his muscular frame, announcing his status on the football team. His dark hair, always perfectly tousled, complemented the piercing blue eyes that made more than a few girls on campus swoon.

Yet, for all his outward bravado, Dylan was feeling a little out of place. It was his sophomore year, but there was a gnawing sense of something missing, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The parties, the girls, the camaraderie of the team—it was all great, but none of it filled the void he felt. He hadn’t told anyone, but there were nights when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what else was out there, beyond the expectations that everyone had placed on him.

As he cut across the quad, heading toward the student union for his morning coffee, his thoughts were interrupted by a collision that nearly knocked him off balance. He looked down, surprised, and saw a small figure sprawled on the ground, books and papers scattered everywhere.

“Shit, I’m sorry, man,” Dylan said instinctively, reaching out a hand.

The figure on the ground was a stark contrast to Dylan’s imposing presence. He was small, barely reaching Dylan’s shoulder even when standing, with a slight build that suggested more time spent in libraries than in gyms. His light brown hair was tousled, as if he’d been in a hurry, and thick-rimmed glasses sat askew on his nose. He wore a faded, oversized hoodie that seemed to swallow him whole, and his jeans were worn and frayed at the cuffs.

The guy looked up, clearly embarrassed, his face flushing as red as a cherry. He hesitated before taking Dylan’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. “N-no, it’s my fault,” he stammered, hastily trying to gather his scattered belongings. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Dylan crouched down to help, noticing the titles of the books as he handed them over: Advanced Theoretical Physics, Quantum Mechanics, Introduction to Linear Algebra. “Whoa,” Dylan said, impressed. “You must be, like, a genius or something.”

The guy blushed even more, if that was possible, and adjusted his glasses. “I-I don’t know about that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “I just… like to study.”

“Dylan,” he said, offering his hand again, this time for a proper introduction.

“Simon,” the smaller guy replied, his hand trembling slightly as he shook Dylan’s.

“So, Simon,” Dylan said, trying to break the awkwardness, “what’s your major? You’re obviously into some heavy stuff.”

“Physics,” Simon replied, the single word laced with a quiet pride. “I’m actually a junior. Got a scholarship, so I’m trying to finish early.”

“Physics, huh? That’s cool. I can barely pass my math classes.” Dylan chuckled, but Simon’s serious expression didn’t change. He nodded, though, as if to acknowledge Dylan’s attempt at humor.

As they finished gathering the last of Simon’s papers, Dylan handed them over, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. He could smell the faint scent of Simon’s shampoo—something clean, like fresh linen—and the way Simon kept avoiding eye contact only made him seem more endearing. It was strange; Dylan had never paid much attention to guys like Simon before. Hell, he’d barely paid attention to anyone outside his usual circle of friends. But there was something about Simon that intrigued him, something in the way his shyness seemed to hide an entire world beneath the surface.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Simon said, clutching his books to his chest like a shield, clearly eager to escape the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dylan replied, watching as Simon walked away, the oversized hoodie making him look even smaller. He found himself still standing there, staring after Simon long after he had disappeared into the crowd, that nagging feeling of something missing now replaced with a sense of curiosity, maybe even excitement.

Without really understanding why, Dylan couldn’t shake the thought of Simon. There was something about the way their worlds had collided—so unexpectedly, so awkwardly—that made him want to see him again.