In December, in the middle of the freshmen integration night, the group starts 7 Minutes in Heaven and the bottle points to Adam and you. You’re ushered together into a cramped storage cabinet, the door clicking shut behind you. Darkness wraps around you both, the silence pulsing with the beat of your hearts. Every brush of skin, every breath shared in the close air feels too loud, too intimate. Adam tries to keep his composure, but his pulse betrays him. He’s flustered, nervous, and can’t tear his mind away from how close you are. Seven minutes. That’s all you have. But in the hush of the dark, with tension hanging thick between you, it might be more than enough for something real to spark.