They were cooling off by the side of the court, water bottles half-empty, shirts drenched. James sat on the bench, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
Dre stretched his arms behind his head. "Yo, that was good, man. You ball like you got something to forget."
CJ nodded. "Facts. We should run this again sometime."
"Yeah," James said, voice low. "Appreciate it."
Malik wiped his face with his tee. "You new on campus?"
"Not really. But transferred in this year."
They chatted for a bit, casual stuff. Where they lived, majors, shared professors. James tried to steer the convo toward her.
"Hey... any of y'all know that girl who was sitting over there earlier? Hoodie, black skirt?"
CJ looked around. "Nah. She wasn't with us. You interested?"
James shrugged. "I mean, she just caught my eye."
Barry, behind James, groaned. "Don't start."
James ignored him. "You sure you don't know her?"
"Nah," Malik said. "But hey, it's Princeton. You blink, you miss ten fine girls."
They dapped up and parted ways. As James and Barry walked off, the sun already setting behind the admin building, Barry looked over.
"Alright. Spill." Barry said, sounding serious.
"About?" James replied, looking away.
"You've been spiraling since that party, and I ain't blind, bro. What's the deal with you and Tami?"
James was quiet for a while. They kept walking. "I don't know," he finally said. "She's cool. Sweet, even. But I think I just… wanted to feel something."
Barry nodded slowly. "And now you feel guilty."
James exhaled. "Yeah."
"Look" Barry said, "you don't owe her a relationship. But you do owe her a real conversation. You don't get to ghost people just because your feelings are messy."
James looked at the sidewalk, jaw clenched. "I know."
"Then do it. Talk to her."
The next day, Professor Keller, the same guy whose class James had bombed — called him in. No reason given. Just an email that said, "Come see me. 3PM. My office."
James wasn't sure if it was about the presentation, or if Keller was just ready to roast him alive. Either way, he showed up.
He stood outside the door for a second before knocking.
"Come in."
The office was neat, shelves lined with textbooks and old models of mechanical parts. Keller sat behind the desk, glasses halfway down his nose, flipping through a printout.
James stepped in, closed the door behind him.
"Sit." Keller said without looking up.
James sat stiff in the lone chair opposite Professor Keller's desk. Keller was flipping through a printed version of James's presentation slides, pen tapping against the corner.
"You're smart, James," Keller said, eyes still on the paper. "Your ideas were solid. Clean. But when you opened your mouth in front of the class?"
James swallowed.
"Your voice vanished. Your presence vanished."
"I know." James said. "I... I panicked."
"That's not failure. That's just life, I understand." Keller said, finally setting the slides down. "But here's the thing: engineering isn't just numbers. It's communication. It's the pitch, the pitch deck, the funding, the confidence."
James stayed quiet.
"I'm offering you another shot." Keller said. "No class, no pressure. Just you and me. Tomorrow, my office. Deliver it again, properly this time. Let's see how you'll do."
James looked up. "For real? Thanks"
Keller nodded. "But this time, you don't just present. You convince."
Tami was waiting, leaning on the wall beside Keller's office entrance. Backpack on one shoulder, arms folded. James froze when he saw her. She caught his eye.
"Well damn." she said. "Almost like you've been dodging me."
James laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not true."
"James."
He sighed. "Okay. Maybe a little."
They stood there in silence for a second. Students walked past them. Sunlight hit the pavement like it was trying to make a statement.
James finally spoke. "Tami… you're great. Like, really. But I'm a bit of a mess. I don't think I'm in a place to… be anything real."
Tami smiled calm. "I know."
He blinked. "Wait, you—?"
"I'm not trying to date you, James."
"You're not?"
She shook her head. "I was into the moment. That's it. You don't have to turn it into a soap opera."
James chuckled. "I thought this would be way more dramatic."
Tami rolled her eyes. "We can argue, if you want. I can storm off and slam my books on the ground."
He smiled. "Nah. I'm good."
"Still friends?" he asked.
"Definitely," she said. "But don't ghost me or I'm keying your laptop."
James smirked. "That a threat or a promise?"
"Depends. You still got Barry living in your kitchen?"
"Yeah... I don't even know how that happened."
"Good. Then I know where to find you."
They shared a small laugh, and the tension cracked, just a little.
"What've you been up to?" James asked. "Aside from dodging my ghost energy."
"Group project hell," she replied. "My lit group is full of walking red flags. One guy literally submitted a TikTok as analysis."
James snorted. "I respect the creativity though."
"And what about you?" she asked. "You good?"
"I bombed a presentation," James admitted. "Like full-on meltdown in front of the class. Professor Keller pulled me aside to give me a second chance—solo, just me and him."
"Damn," she said. "You okay?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But I'm trying. I guess that's all I can do."
Tami nodded. "Trying's a start."
They bumped fists gently, lingered a second, then stepped apart. James turned a corner, heading toward his dorm. His hoodie was half-zipped, headphones hanging around his neck.
Then he saw her. The same girl from the court. Sitting under a tree, scrolling through her phone, legs crossed, a water bottle beside her. His heart jumped. But he didn't stop walking.
Not until something — Barry's voice in his head probably, screamed "do something, loser."
He doubled back. Walked up.
"Hey," he said, voice trying to be chill. It came out a little too sharp. "Uh, you were… by the court yesterday, right?"
She pulled out one earbud and looked at him. "Yeah. You were the guy with the rusty jumper."
James raised an eyebrow. "Rusty?"
"Rusty," she repeated, deadpan. "Like that hoop hasn't seen oil in a decade."
"Ouch," he said, holding his chest. "That's wild. I hit at least two shots."
"Out of twenty," she smirked.
He laughed. "Damn, okay. You got jokes."
"I try."
A pause. Just enough for the awkward to creep in. James cleared his throat.
"I'm James, by the way."
She smiled. "Maya."
He repeated it under his breath once. Maya. Then, "Cool name."
"Thanks. Yours is... basic."
He blinked. "Okay wow."
She grinned. "I mean that with love."
"Do you?" he asked, trying to hide the fact that he kinda loved her already.
Another beat passed.
"So… do you play?" she asked.
"Basketball?" he said. "Kinda. More like... I get dragged into it when they think I need therapy."
Maya chuckled. "Fair. You looked like you were having fun, though. You laughed, like… twice."
"I've got a quota to maintain," he said. "If I laugh three times in a day, I start glitching."
"Ah" she said. "Makes sense. You do have that 'brooding book character' thing going on."
"Right" he nodded. "Next thing you know, I'm showing up in your dreams to monologue about pain and destiny."
She laughed. And not the polite kind, like an actual, head-thrown-back laugh.
He felt like he'd won the lottery.
They stood there for a moment. No pressure. No intensity. Just the normal buzz of campus life all around them.
Then he said, "So, uh… would it be crazy if I asked for your number?"
She looked at him. "Hmm. Slightly risky… but I'm feeling generous."
She tapped it into his phone. He saved it as "Maya 🏀💀" and she gave him a thumbs-up of approval.
"Text me sometime" she said, starting to walk off. "Just… don't lead with a pickup line. Or I'll block you instantly."
James grinned. "No promises here."
As she disappeared into the crowd, James just stood there for a second, staring at her name on his screen.
And for once, his brain wasn't spiraling. Just… quiet. Maybe this was nothing. Or maybe it was something. Either way, he smiled.