He was failing spectacularly. His eyes kept darting to the left, to the boy with the sunny smile and easy laugh, the one surrounded by a small crowd of admirers.

Nakamura's face flushed red as he quickened his pace, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

He didn't see the edge of the water fountain. His foot caught it, and he stumbled forward, arms flailing. The world tilted—and then a hand caught his elbow, steadying him.

Nakamura's heart stopped. He looked up, straight into warm brown eyes and a concerned smile that made his soul leave his body.

The words died in his throat. He was burning, sweating, absolutely certain he was making the most embarrassing first impression in the history of first impressions.