"That's... ambitious," I said carefully, handing the phone back. "And beautiful."
"I-It's probably too much," he muttered, voice soft.
"No," I said, a little too quickly. "It's not about the lifts. It's about connection. That's the part that matters."
His shoulders relaxed a little. "I just... I want to get it right."
There was a beat of silence. I smiled. "So, do you always bust out romantic choreography for girls, or am I... special?"
His face lit up in panic. "N-no! I mean—yes! Wait—wait, not like that. I mean, yes, you're special! But, um, I—I don't do this for... anyone, really."
I laughed. "Top-tier save, Liam."
He grinned, sheepish. "Don't tell the others, but yeah, you're definitely in the top five."
"Top five?" I repeated. "What an honor."
"Top three," he mumbled, "if we don't count the barista who gave me extra whipped cream this morning."
I snorted. "Charming and loyal. The full package."
He blushed, adjusting his glasses again like they were a nervous tic. "S-so, uh... what do you do, when you're not, you know... uh... dodging clumsy students?"
"I teach," I said. "Dance. And sometimes movement therapy. It's not always glamorous, but it helps."
He nodded, like he understood that. Then glanced at the floor. "I—I work with stars."
I tilted my head. "Hollywood agent?"
His laugh surprised both of us. "I—uh—no. Astronomer. I, um... mostly chart stellar coordinates, track celestial bodies. You know, monitor planetary transits, orbital patterns, light curves—stuff like that."
I tilted my head, smiling. "So... space stuff?"
He nodded quickly. "Yeah. I work at the observatory just outside town—the one up on Red Pine Hill. We've got a 1.5-meter optical telescope, which is... medium-sized, but decent for photometric studies. Lately I've been logging variable star data and trying to refine exoplanet detection algorithms. So, lots of spreadsheets. Lots of coffee."
I blinked. "That sounds complicated. And cool."
He laughed awkwardly. "It's less glamorous than it sounds. Half the time I'm debugging scripts at three in the morning because the system didn't log RA/Dec coordinates correctly. Or cursing at clouds for ruining a perfect observation window."
"RA/Dec?" I asked.
"Right ascension and declination," he said, adjusting his glasses again. "Like longitude and latitude, but for the sky. Coordinates to find stars."
He glanced down, a little pink. "It's nerdy. But... I like it. There's something kind of humbling about mapping the universe. Even when it's just on a screen."
"That isliterallythe coolest thing I've ever heard," I said, leaning in.
He looked up, startled. "Really?"
"Yes," I grinned. "You just casually droppedI track the universelike that's not extremely hot."
He blushed and laughed, then blurted, "Hey, um—before I take you home, because I—uh—I'm not letting you go home alone at night, just saying, can we...can we stop somewhere first?"
I blinked. "Sure?"
Five minutes later we were in line at a pharmacy. I watched as he nervously selected something, paid, and then turned to me with the most triumphant look—like he'd just discovered treasure.
"For your feet," he said, holding it out. "Calming balm. Um... my official apology. F-for crimes against toes."
