I had dinner with the guy I sat next to all semester in Psychology.
He's not the kind of guy I would have naturally associated with if I hadn't met him beforehand. I met him when my roommate and I decided to have an ice-cream run with our separate friends on one of the weekend nights before classes started so we could get to know each other. She brought two of her friends, I brought three of mine. It was a great evening.
I was waiting for the previous class to empty so I could get a seat, and someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and at first didn't recognize him, but the lip stud that I'd admired the week before because it sparkled jogged my memory, and I recognized him. We sat next to each other and began to talk, to know each other a bit better.
Over the semester, we became close friends. Because we sat in the back row of the front section, we jumped over the backs of the seats to sit down, so we could get in even if there were people already sitting down at either end of the section (which, if you ask me, was a smart move... There wasn't much legroom and even less to move around. I hit my head several times on the backs of the seat in front of me whilst attempting to retrieve stray writing utensils). He'd share his food with me, and sometimes brought me candy because he had extras. He wasn't a very good student, so I'd help him study for his tests and give him tips on how to take notes and study. We'd have our little jokes and every once in a while break out into spontaneous scenes in the hallway after class: "Don't... Don't leave me!" "I'm sorry, but I can't stand it anymore... I can't live with myself." "But... I thought you loved me!".
We talked about sex, sometimes. He's only the second guy I've ever talked to about sex. And the first one who wasn't actually involved with me. He's gay. Together, we secretly lusted after the ridiculously handsome professor, who looked like a sophisticated 7-foot tall Jesus with a British accent and a suit. We'd make up crazy stories. He pointed out hot guys in the 500-strong class, and I'd give my opinion.
Sometimes, he drew hearts on my notes. I can't stand it when something that isn't class material is on my notes, especially in pen. But I let him, because I knew he meant it.
Today was the last day of psychology. After we thanked the professors, we had dinner together. And it was the closest I've been to anyone except for one other person all of this semester, if not the entire year.
I found out so much more about him tonight. He's got dreams. He's astoundingly smart. He wants to be an environmental scientist. The Collegeboard is begging him to take part in an REU in New York this summer. When his parents divorced, he waited for hours every Monday night for his dad to pick him up and take him to dinner, even though he never came. His mother would find him asleep in his nice clothes when she came home at midnight. His sister is pregnant. He wanted to go to the University of Monterrey in Mexico, but it was more expensive than here, so he came here.
We took the bus home together, and promised that we would go for ice cream together when the weather was warmer.
And then he went home. I went home.
I'm glad I talked to him.
It's surprising what you can find in the people you'd otherwise never talk to. I found a friend.
He's not the kind of guy I would have naturally associated with if I hadn't met him beforehand. I met him when my roommate and I decided to have an ice-cream run with our separate friends on one of the weekend nights before classes started so we could get to know each other. She brought two of her friends, I brought three of mine. It was a great evening.
I was waiting for the previous class to empty so I could get a seat, and someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and at first didn't recognize him, but the lip stud that I'd admired the week before because it sparkled jogged my memory, and I recognized him. We sat next to each other and began to talk, to know each other a bit better.
Over the semester, we became close friends. Because we sat in the back row of the front section, we jumped over the backs of the seats to sit down, so we could get in even if there were people already sitting down at either end of the section (which, if you ask me, was a smart move... There wasn't much legroom and even less to move around. I hit my head several times on the backs of the seat in front of me whilst attempting to retrieve stray writing utensils). He'd share his food with me, and sometimes brought me candy because he had extras. He wasn't a very good student, so I'd help him study for his tests and give him tips on how to take notes and study. We'd have our little jokes and every once in a while break out into spontaneous scenes in the hallway after class: "Don't... Don't leave me!" "I'm sorry, but I can't stand it anymore... I can't live with myself." "But... I thought you loved me!".
We talked about sex, sometimes. He's only the second guy I've ever talked to about sex. And the first one who wasn't actually involved with me. He's gay. Together, we secretly lusted after the ridiculously handsome professor, who looked like a sophisticated 7-foot tall Jesus with a British accent and a suit. We'd make up crazy stories. He pointed out hot guys in the 500-strong class, and I'd give my opinion.
Sometimes, he drew hearts on my notes. I can't stand it when something that isn't class material is on my notes, especially in pen. But I let him, because I knew he meant it.
Today was the last day of psychology. After we thanked the professors, we had dinner together. And it was the closest I've been to anyone except for one other person all of this semester, if not the entire year.
I found out so much more about him tonight. He's got dreams. He's astoundingly smart. He wants to be an environmental scientist. The Collegeboard is begging him to take part in an REU in New York this summer. When his parents divorced, he waited for hours every Monday night for his dad to pick him up and take him to dinner, even though he never came. His mother would find him asleep in his nice clothes when she came home at midnight. His sister is pregnant. He wanted to go to the University of Monterrey in Mexico, but it was more expensive than here, so he came here.
We took the bus home together, and promised that we would go for ice cream together when the weather was warmer.
And then he went home. I went home.
I'm glad I talked to him.
It's surprising what you can find in the people you'd otherwise never talk to. I found a friend.
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