19-year-old Elizabeth Adams instinctively wrapped her scarf more securely around her face and picked up her pace as the wind began to blow, creating eddies of leaves swirling around her boots. The concrete sidewalk was damp from the light snow that was now falling from the sky and melting into the ground; the monotonous gray clouds overhead were as bleak as the faces of the students she passed as she darted across campus. She wanted to check her watch but it was buried inside her glove beneath the sleeves of her shirt, her UVA hoodie, and the puffy purple marshmallow coat she wore over top of it all.
Though she was unable to check the time, she knew that she was running late. Her Arabic class had run long because the professor lost track of time as he read his syllabus word for word from front to back, and although it likely wasn't crucial for her to be 10 minutes early on the first day of her next class, "European History- the Renaissance," she was a firm believer in the idea that "early is on time; on time is late," and Elizabeth Adams was NOT the kind of person who was, under ANY circumstances, EVER late.
She halted breathlessly in the doorway of the classroom, having made it just in time to pick a seat before the lecture started. Her cheeks still burned from the cold air outside and she was huffing and puffing softly from her long trek across campus. As she briefly pondered which open seat to take, she was caught off guard by a pair of dark eyes across the room that seemed to briefly gaze directly into her soul. She took in his dark, neatly combed hair and the softly upturned corners of his lips before realizing that she was staring and training her eyes quickly to the floor in front of her. Her feet carried her to the front of the room and she slid into the nearest desk in the front row, fidgeting with her glasses all the way. Her cheeks were burning again, but it was no longer from the cold of the air outside.
As she removed her hat and scarf, the professor began by introducing himself and welcoming the students to his classroom before diving into the syllabus. Elizabeth didn't hear much more than that; she was thinking about the boy across the room a few rows back. Had he been staring at her? No, she must have just assumed that. He was staring in her direction, not at her. She removed her coat and played absentmindedly with the copy of the syllabus that had been placed on the desk before her arrival. He was cute, right? She couldn't remember, and fought the sudden urge she had to turn in her seat and look. She hadn't even seen what he was wearing. "Oh no!" She thought to herself, eyes involuntarily widening as she looked down at her oversized college hoodie. She lightly finger combed her hair and wondered if he was still looking at her. No... no, he couldn't be. He wasn't looking at her in the first place. As she continued to tug at her own clothing and hair, she realized what she was doing and immediately stopped. "Elizabeth Adams, how dare you let a boy make you question your appearance. You're not in this classroom to impress anyone, you're here to get an education for God's sake." And with that she focused in on the professor, hearing every unimportant word he said, pushing this boy into the back of her mind- at least for the time being.
By the time the analog clock above the blackboard read 4:20, indicating that class was over, Elizabeth's mind had wandered back to the boy who she wasn't sure she didn't make eye contact with. She wondered if he was still there, and as she gathered her belongings and dressed for the weather outside she stole a risky glance in his direction. He had definitely been looking at her then; she could tell by the way he turned his head in the complete opposite direction just as she looked over. As she stared, his eyes flicked briefly back to hers. "It doesn't mean anything," she told herself, quickly turning her eyes back to the floor. But her heart began to thrum more quickly than before. "Stop being ridiculous."
She finished the buttons on her coat quickly and slung her book bag over her shoulders before exiting the classroom, and she was positive she could feel his eyes on the back of her head as she went. She made her way quickly out of the building and through the cold air back to her dorm, but the bite of the wind did not clear her mind as she had hoped. She felt a shiver of electricity and excitement as she recalled the way she felt when she made eye contact with him. "Yes," she finally admitted to herself, "he was definitely looking at me. But what does it matter? He's an attractive boy who I made eye contact with. That's all. Don't make this something it's not."
She reasoned with herself all the way back to the dorm, wondering whether anything would come of this brief encounter. It probably wouldn't, she had to be practical. All she had done was make eye contact with an extremely attractive classmate. He made eye contact because she dramatically entered the classroom mere seconds before the lecture. She had drawn attention to herself, he was alert to the disturbance, observant. That's all. It was best to put it out of her mind before she came up with some overly romanticized story in her head that would never play out. Elizabeth knew her roots and knew where she wanted to go in the world, and a partner just didn't seem to be in the cards for her. Sure, maybe with a bit of work somebody could learn to love her, but it was unlikely that she would ever allow herself to be loved in that way. Loving someone means having someone to lose, and Elizabeth Adams had suffered more than enough loss in her 19 years.
Henry McCord sat silently in the third row against the far wall of the classroom thinking about nothing in particular and allowing his mind to wander. "European History- the Renaissance" was his fourth and final class of the day and although he was looking forward to the topics they would be discussing throughout the semester, he was exhausted and ready for the first day of classes to be over. He was taking 17 credits for the spring semester of his junior year, and he was already feeling the pressure of a full course load. As the room slowly filled, Dr. Walker began distributing copies of his syllabus; one on each desk whether it was occupied or not. In the meantime Henry let his gaze sweep around the classroom and linger on his peers, then stray out the window to his right as he looked across the grounds. He watched as students hurried by one another without looking, surely trying to get out of the cold as quickly as possible and escape the growing number of snowflakes fluttering in the air. He allowed his eyes to absentmindedly follow the path of a girl who had wavy blonde hair spilling from under her baby pink hat. Her pretty locks caught lightly in the wind, dancing behind her with the snowflakes as she rushed toward the front of the building. She was probably going to be late for whatever class she was heading to, considering it was only a minute until 3:00.
Henry blinked hard and his wandering mind returned to the classroom where his peers were naturally quieting down as the second hand on the analog clock above the blackboard ticked closer to the beginning of class. Before the chatter had completely died down, he sensed movement in his peripheral vision and instinctively turned to look as she entered the room and abruptly stopped, taking in the layout and likely picking out a seat. Henry noticed immediately that it was the girl in the baby pink beanie and he was impressed that she had made it before the lecture started. The classroom wasn't nearly full because this was not a popular class; very few degrees required it and very few students took it due to personal preference, so there were plenty of seating options for the latecomer.
Caught up in his own thoughts, Henry didn't realize that he had been staring blankly in her direction until he focused in again and found himself swimming in her electric blue gaze. They only made eye contact for a split second before she put her head down and made a beeline for the front row, fingering her glasses as she went, but he could have sworn that the pretty blonde with deep blue eyes was blushing underneath her scarf. He sure as hell was.
Henry was surprised at first that she had chosen to sit in the front row considering that there were seats available all over the room; she must be either extremely studious or a teacher's pet, but she didn't seem to be focusing on the lecture now. It wasn't even really a lecture. "Why don't they give us the syllabus and let us read it over ourselves? Nobody needs this." He thought, eyes still trained on the blonde across the room. To be fair, he obviously wasn't focused either. At least not on the professor.
He watched as she took off her hat and scarf, then her big purple coat, revealing more of the girl underneath. She was beautiful in an unconventional, down to earth sort of way. She clearly had more important things to worry about than her appearance on a Tuesday afternoon at UVA, but he definitely found her attractive. Her small figure was draped in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that had to be three sizes too big, but they were clean. She didn't look sloppy, and her hair was done. Sure, it was a bit messed by the wind and the hat she had been wearing, but he could tell that it had been softly curled at some point and it fell just past her broad shoulders. She had an angular chin that stretched into a strong jawline, full-ish lips that seemed to be hiding a big smile, a thin nose, and although he couldn't see them from the angle he was currently at, the prettiest icy-blue eyes hiding behind large, thickly framed glasses. He was glad she had chosen a seat in his line of sight, and he wondered to himself whether or not she had actually been looking at him as she entered the room. It was so brief, maybe he had only imagined it. But he was sure she was blushing. Why else would she have looked away so aggressively and practically thrown herself at the nearest desk? "She saw me," he decided internally, "there's no way she didn't."
An hour and 20 minutes later he watched as the girl in the front row gathered her things and turned around. Afraid that she might catch him staring, he looked away for a moment but couldn't help glancing at her again. "Shit!" she had definitely seen him look. By the time he collected himself and turned back, she was exiting the classroom and he quickly lost sight of her. He picked up his bag and made his way to the door wondering if he should try to find her and see which way she was going. "No," he thought, "that's too much. Don't be weird, play it cool. She'll be here twice a week for the next few months, there's time." With that thought to keep him from trying to find her right away he departed for a leisurely walk across campus, hoping that the cold air would clear his mind.
Elizabeth hastily let herself into her dorm room and dropped her backpack next to the door, then peeled her coat off and flung it across the room before flopping onto her bed and covering her face with a pillow. "Uuuuugh," she groaned loudly, willing her mind to free her from the image of those dark, sparkling eyes that made her shiver. Dr. Walker had kept her occupied through his "lecture" with the dull sound of his voice as he went over the basics of the course, but now that she had no auditory stimuli she was drowning in thoughts of the boy who looked at her. "That's all he did!" she said exasperatedly, flailing her arms, face still hidden under the pillow. "He looked at me. What the hell am I being so weird about?" She was thankful that her roommate Annie wasn't there so she didn't have to hide her little touch of crazy; she could just let it all out. "You gotta stop, Liz," she continued.
She laughed loudly at her own self-reprimand. She had only been away from the classroom for 15 minutes and already found herself itching for Thursday's class. What was wrong with her? She wanted to see if he paid her any attention, or if it really was all in her head. It had to be. "That'll do it," she whispered, pushing the pillow away from her face and sitting up, "he wasn't looking at me, it's all in my head, and once I see that for myself on Thursday I'll be able to free myself from this whole mess I've made up. With that thought to keep her sane, she rose from her bed and straightened the comforter, placing the pillow back in its spot and turning to gather her coat off the floor.
Elizabeth had extremely limited experience with boys and had no clue how to handle an irrational crush, but now that she had talked herself off of that ledge she could focus on more important matters. Since she'd been to each class once, they would be getting into the material starting in the morning; the uphill battle of the semester would begin. That thought prompted her to spend the evening at her desk in front of her planner with highlighters and colored pens, writing in assignments and due dates and test dates and anything else she could think of. She organized each syllabus into a folder that corresponded to the color pen she used for that class in her planner, and she organized everything in order with her textbooks on the shelf above her desk.
Once everything was in place, she opened her planner again and selected classes to read for- she liked to be a step or two ahead. It was a good way to start any semester. By the time she decided to call it quits, it was 7:45 and her stomach was rumbling. Though she did regularly grace the dining hall on the first floor of her building, she decided that it was an ice cream-cereal kind of night and she would not be leaving her room. The dining hall would be closing soon anyway.
With the heater on, she had grown warm in her layers despite the snow that was still falling outside. She changed out of her baggy outfit and traded it for a pair of long gym shorts and a Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt. She also opted for a pair of warm socks. Once she had changed, she pulled a bowl and a spoon out of one of the storage drawers under her bed and deposited them on her desk, then pulled the desk chair across the small space and hopped onto it so she could reach the Lucky Charms that were kept on top of her wardrobe. She replaced the chair before making her last stop at the mini fridge in the corner, taking a half gallon of milk, chocolate fudge syrup, and a small carton of vanilla ice cream. She poured some of her Lucky Charms into the bowl, followed by a few three hefty scoops of the ice cream and a heavy drizzling of the syrup. After that, she added more Lucky Charms and topped it off with the milk. She mixed it lightly and scooped a soft, cold bite into her mouth before returning everything to its rightful place in the room, then grabbed her bowl and hopped into bed.
As she munched, she thought about Annie and where she might be. Elizabeth liked Annie well enough. They had never had any issues living together, but that might be because she rarely spent time in the room. When she was around, they were able to have nice conversations and Elizabeth truly found her to be an interesting person, but they were very different people. Annie hated her parents, which tore at Elizabeth's heart a bit, and she was very rebellious. She spent a lot of time with her group of friends and partied every weekend, which was fine by Elizabeth because she was never dragged into it. Still, she wondered when Annie found the time to get any of her coursework done given her inconsistent lifestyle. She just didn't understand it. But they respected one another and although Elizabeth was accustomed to having the dorm to herself, Annie was obviously more than welcome to stay the few nights a month that she did. There wasn't a lot of her stuff in the room, but Elizabeth respected their shared space and kept to her half.
Cold again because of the ice cream, she set the empty bowl on her bedside table and curled up under her blankets. She snagged her book from next to the bowl and settled in for the night, flipping to the page she had left off at. It kept her occupied for a few chapters, but after a while she found her mind drifting back to the boy. "Damn it all to hell," she whispered, marking her book in the middle of a chapter and tossing it onto the table. She laid back and gave into the irrational thought that he just may have been looking at her. She could not comprehend why she couldn't just let it go. There was nothing special about this boy, all sorts of people probably turned in her direction as she walked in the door. Why couldn't she get him out of her head?
She wondered what he was doing, what year he was, where he lived. Was he in one of the dorms buildings? Her dorm building? Was he thinking about her? "No," she whispered under her breath. He was not thinking about her because he had not been staring at her. "This is absolutely ridiculous."
