Maya sat on a bench outside the campus coffee shop with her apple.
A boy she didn't know sat at the next table. He kept looking at her apple.
She broke her apple in half and slid one piece across the table. He took it.
The bell rang. Ding. He stood and walked out. She watched him go, then went back to her book.
Weeks passed. Every few days, she saw him — at the library, by the bike racks, on the path.
They never spoke. They just smiled. Rustle, rustle went the leaves.
One rainy afternoon, she forgot her umbrella. Under the library awning, he appeared with a bright yellow one.
She shook her head and pointed to the rain. He shrugged and walked away into the puddles anyway. Years later, she found a folded note in her favorite library book. She smiled. The wind moved the leaves.