First words
1st December 1986
It had been one week since he'd seen her around on campus. He had been on the lookout for her throughout the majority of his days. He had looked for her at the park; the first snow dragged many students to the park for snow fights. He had looked for her in the never-ending corridors of UVA. Throngs of students were walking these hallways constantly, everyone on edge as many deadlines had to be reached. He had looked for her at the dorms whenever he was visiting one of his friends. When he was getting coffee, he hoped he'd see her appear but nothing.
Having a couple of deadlines himself and having to do some much needed research, Henry decided to head for the library. His work was progressing better than expected. He was totally caught up in a book, so much so that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. When he was finished with this rather difficult chapter, he decided to make some notes about what he'd read. He closed the book and started on the draft version of his second paper that day. It was then that something caught his attention. He looked to his left and there she was. Entering the library. It was her. in the library. He hadn't looked at anyone who entered the library. Yet, he was drawn to her and when he was least expecting to see her, he finally saw her again. He watched her as she overlooked the library. It was crowded but there were still some tables available. He followed her every move. His heart stopped when she decided to sit down at the long table that was parallel to Henry's. She was sitting right in front of him and he could not not look at her.
Her hair was in a loose bun high on her head. She was wearing a dark blue hoody and a loose pair of washed off jeans with white sneakers. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe her. Her eyes, he had never seen eyes this light of colour. Were they green or blue or grey? He couldn't tell. Her mouth was slightly opened. Focused on installing everything she needed for an afternoon of studying. How he would love to see her smile. In his mind she had the most stunning smile he could imagine. He made a mental note of making her smile today and see for himself whether or not his guessing was true. Her hands were going to her pants pocket from which she withdrew a pair of reading glasses. She put them on her cute nose. He followed her every move, he noticed every twitch, and every movement she made was burned in his memory forever. As if she hadn't been totally perfect already, she drew closer the pile of books that she'd carried with her upon entering. She picked up the first one and started On Being and Essence by Thomas Aquinas. He knew she was the one for him from probably that moment onwards.
He could look at her forever. Every single person in the library was hard at work. So should he. But he didn't dare to look away. Afraid he'd lose her from his sight again and he didn't want that. He could not go another week with not seeing her. He kept on looking. After a while, she looked up. Her mesmerizing eyes locked with his. Fireworks. She'd seen him. Finally. He was staring, and kept staring. She let out the tiniest sigh. Was it surprise? Was it fatigue? Was it nervousness? She looked down, distracting herself, so it seemed, with another chapter. Her cheeks turned a bit rosy. He could tell. She was looking down at the book in front of her on the table, but she wasn't reading. He could tell. She wasn't turning any pages at the incredible pace she had been doing earlier. He could tell.
As the minutes passed by, more and more people left the library. Unnoticed by Henry, nor by the beauty who was indulged in Aquinas's work. Was she still indulged? He looked at the large clock in the far corner of the library. It was 6.30. There were only a total of five people left in the large reading hall. Now was the time.
He gets up. His chair makes a typical sound as he pushes it a bit farther backwards with his legs. He rounds the large table and goes to stand right in front of her. All the while, not looking away from her. He sees that she starts blushing even more. She was so cute and he was going to make her smile and laugh and see her eyes sparkle. December 1st, 6.30 pm.
"So Thomas Aquinas walks into a bar…"
There it was. It was everything he had hoped for. First a wide smile, revealing her perfectly lined white teeth. Her eyes narrowing as her smile grew wider and wider. Then all of a sudden he heard a snort. She snorted. How cute was this. If anything, Thomas Aquinas always seemed to work for Henry. And for her as well. The ice was broken.
"Mind if I sit down?" he asked gesturing at the chair he was standing at. He sat down, across from her. He had the same spectacular view as he had when he was at his table. But he could see everything more clear now. Except for her eyes. He could not define the colour of her eyes. It was not blue, it was not grey, it was not green. It was a mixture of all those colours and he thought it was the most beautiful colour he'd ever seen. She gestured for him to sit down. Obviously not minding him sitting down across from her. He smiled. How happy he was that she let him sit so close to her.
"Hi, I'm Henry McCord."
She smiled before she answered. Was she still smiling because he knew he had made a fantastic joke or because she was genuinely glad he was keeping her company. "I'm Elizabeth Adams." Her smile broadened. She was genuinely glad.
Silence. He had to say something. His mind was racing. Where should he begin? He wanted to know everything all at once. He decided he was just going to be honest with her.
"I saw you last week when you left Professor Matthews office," he swallowed. "And, honestly, I've been wanting to run into you ever since." His mouth was open. God, the air was dry in here.
"Is that so?" she chuckled. Why did she chuckle?
Henry looked at her, questioning her silently. His determination was fading quickly. He felt much more uncertain about his bold move of sitting in front of her and talking to her. Did she think he was a creep? Was he a creep? She finally closed the book and leaned in a bit closer. "I saw you two weeks ago at the café when I was getting coffee with Joey."
She'd seen me before? I hadn't noticed her before? Who the hell was Joey? Henry's mind kept going places he'd rather not visit.
"You've seen me before?" he was surprised.
She nodded and still she smiled. "You were in a heated, passionate conversation with a professor I think."
Henry thought back to his coffee break with Professor Simmons. It was his turn to nod and smile. He kept on looking at her.
She looked down again. Unable to keep looking when he was staring so intently.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Henry asked.
She looked up quickly. "No, no, euh, no." She glanced around nervously. They were alone in the library. Somehow every other student had left and she hadn't noticed. She was alone with a guy she had only seen once. "Actually, a little bit," she admitted as she gestured for him to see they were all alone.
Henry looked around as well. He was surprised to see everyone had left without him noticing. But then again, how could he ever notice anyone else when she was sitting there with him.
"I'm sorry for that. When did everyone leave?"
She snorted again, a bit more silent this time. "I don't know."
"Elizabeth, I –" he hesitated. He took a deep breath. And then he started rambling. "I think you're the most beautiful human being I've ever seen and I would like to get to know you better. I'm not a creep. I'm just blown away by your looks and your literary preferences," as he pointed towards the book lying closed and forgotten in front of her. I could talk about Aquinas for hours, because I'm probably a much bigger fan of him than you are. But I don't want to talk about Aquinas. I want to talk about you. I want to ask you what colour your eyes are because I can't make up my mind. I have been roaming around campus all week. And every time I've been hoping to run into you. Just to see you again. I'm not a creep. If you think I'm some sort of weirdo, I get that. If you're afraid of me, well you have my name and you can always go to the Dean or the pol…."
"Unless you kill me," she interrupted him.
He laughed. "I'm not a killer, I'm a theologian."
She smiled. "I was joking," she said. Somehow she knew he wasn't a killer or a creep for that matter. Was she being naïve? Was she being too easy?
"It's almost 7," Henry stated. "Would you like to go and have dinner with me?"
"Shit," she replied. She quickly got up and gathered her books and stationery. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I made plans with Joey this evening. He's going to make me dinner at his place."
He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He nodded slightly. The defeat was obvious in his every fibre.
"How about tomorrow?" she asked him. A simple question; she made it seem so light as if it was the most casual thing to ask. He looked up at her. She was standing with her books in her arms, holding them tightly to her chest as to make sure none would escape from her grip.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really," was all she said.
"Okay, euhm, ah, - yeah, euh, tomorrow!" He didn't know what to do, what to say.
"Pick me up at …?"
"Oh, yeah, euhm, what about 6.30?"
"6.30 is perfect."
6.30 is perfect. She is perfect. And he is going to have dinner with her tomorrow. Is this a date? This is a date! Oh my god, he's got a date. He started with a Thomas Aquinas joke and now he has a date with the girl who snorts. Elizabeth...
She was already on her way out when he called out for her again: "Wait, where do I pick you up?" He stood up and shouted hoping she would still hear him. His question echoed throughout the reading hall. He was so glad they were alone.
"The dorms, block A, room 103," she shouted. Her echo made sure he would never forget where she lived.
He slumped back in his chair. He sighed and smiled like a fool and looked around. He was on his own. But they would be together again tomorrow.
How he wished it was December 2nd, 6.30 already.
