Monday mornings were typically uneventful for Liam—except for the usual rush to class and the low-grade stress of incomplete notes. But this Monday felt different. His stomach was a twist of nerves and anticipation, all because of one thing:
Cara.
They had another project session scheduled for that morning. The memory of their last meeting in the library clung to his thoughts like a song he couldn't stop replaying. There was a gentleness in the way she'd said his name, a familiarity that hadn't existed before. The conversation about his writing had touched something in him, something real.
He arrived at the campus café earlier than usual. His fingers tapped restlessly against the wood of the table, a coffee cooling slowly beside his open notebook. Then, as if the tension itself summoned her, Cara stepped in.
She was wearing a light denim jacket over a pale green dress, her hair tied into a soft ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Simple. Beautiful.
"Hey," she said, her voice bright, spotting him almost immediately.
"You're early," Liam greeted, standing up awkwardly as she slid into the chair opposite him.
"You too," she said, smiling. "Look at us—responsible adults."
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Trying our best."
They dove into the project, spreading papers and notes across the table. At first, it was purely academic. Cara read some of Liam's notes and ideas aloud, occasionally biting her lip in thought. But the ease between them made it hard to stay strictly on task.
"So…" Cara said, closing her laptop after an hour. "That part you wrote—the one with the metaphor about the autumn leaves and unspoken confessions—was that all just for the project?"
Liam's throat tightened. "Kind of. It just came to me while I was thinking about—stuff."
Cara tilted her head, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Stuff, huh?"
He looked at her, unsure of how much to give away. "I guess... sometimes it's easier to write about things than say them."
"That's fair," she said softly. "Sometimes we all have things we're afraid to say out loud."
The moment stretched, fragile but heavy.
Then her phone buzzed on the table.
Cara glanced at it, frowned slightly, and turned the screen face down.
Liam noticed. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just... Jared," she muttered.
Liam felt his heart skip. "Still texting you?"
She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He doesn't get that we're really over. Keeps saying we should 'talk.' But there's nothing to talk about anymore."
He looked at her carefully. "Are you okay?"
She met his gaze, holding it. "I think I am. It was a long time coming."
Their eyes lingered, silence stretching between them—not awkward, but full of unspoken thoughts.
"You've changed, Liam," she said quietly.
He blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You used to be this quiet guy in the back of the class. Now you're... still quiet, but different. You've got more to say. And you say it better than most."
Liam flushed, unsure how to respond. "I guess I just... got tired of keeping things inside."
"Good," she said. "Don't."
They packed up not long after. As they walked side by side toward the exit, Cara bumped her shoulder lightly against his.
"Thanks for being a good partner."
Liam smiled, his heart pounding. "Anytime."
That night, Liam was sprawled on the couch in the dorm lounge, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his friend group. Kenji was busy assembling some complicated model robot from a Japanese kit, Josh was halfway through his third instant ramen bowl, and Marcus was flicking through his phone, grinning like an idiot.
"Bro," Marcus suddenly said, "you know Ivy asked about you earlier?"
Liam raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?"
"No clue. She said you looked 'thoughtful' last time you saw her. I think she's into broody writers," Marcus teased.
"Shut up," Liam muttered, throwing a pillow at him.
Josh slurped loudly. "Okay, but for real—when are we gonna talk about how you got paired with the girl you've liked since first year?"
Liam stiffened. "What?"
Kenji looked up from his robot, eyes wide. "You actually liked Cara since then?"
Liam winced. He hadn't meant to let that slip.
Marcus leaned forward, dramatic. "You've been simping for three years and didn't say anything?"
"It wasn't like that," Liam mumbled. "She had a boyfriend. And I thought... I don't know. That it would pass."
"But it didn't," Josh said knowingly.
Liam exhaled. "No. It didn't."
The guys fell into a moment of thoughtful silence. Then Kenji, in his usual dry tone, said, "So what now? She's single. You're clearly into her. Make a move or suffer forever."
"I'm not sure she sees me that way," Liam said, shaking his head. "Besides, there's Ava…"
At the mention of her name, the group collectively groaned.
"You mean the girl who's been flirting with you like it's her full-time job?" Marcus said.
"She's sweet," Liam defended.
"Sweetly possessive," Josh added. "And don't forget she's still mad you turned her down last year."
"Yeah, and now she's back like a sequel nobody asked for," Kenji added.
Liam chuckled despite himself. "She's not bad. I just... can't fake something I don't feel."
There was a knock on the door.
Marcus got up, expecting pizza or Zack, but when he opened the door, Ivy walked in.
"Hey, nerds," she greeted. "Did I miss the Liam Love Life Support Group meeting?"
Josh grinned. "You're right on time."
Liam groaned into the couch. Ivy tossed her bag onto a chair and flopped beside Kenji.
"Seriously though," she said, nudging Liam's knee with her foot, "you have this intense main-character energy lately. Did something happen?"
Liam rolled onto his side, face flushed. "You're all insane."
"Maybe," Ivy said, "but we're not wrong."
He glanced at her and, for a second, saw the flicker of something in her eyes—something warm, supportive, but unreadable.
"Just don't wait too long," she added. "Sometimes chances don't come twice."
Later, alone in his room, Liam stared at the unfinished story draft on his laptop.
He reread the line Cara had mentioned earlier:
"Like autumn leaves caught in the wind, I let her pass by—afraid to hold on, afraid to fall."
He had written it about her. Long ago.
And now, she wasn't passing by. She was standing still. Right in front of him.
The question was: would he reach for her?