Spring Semester

Chapter 2

       I spend the next week trying to get back into my school routine. This has been proving to be very difficult because during the break all I did was watch movies, read books, stay up way too late, then sleep until lunch time. Having to wake up early and go to bed at a reasonable time is a big change. When I come home from school I immediately collapse onto my bed and sleep until I have to get up and go to work. That means that I have practically done nothing in terms of homework or studying this whole entire week. By Friday I told myself that I was going to get home, chug some coffee, then actually get some work done.

      I am making my way through an essay about the French Revolution when I hear my phone ping and it's the girl that destroyed my bumper. The very pretty girl that destroyed my bumper.

                    "Want to meet me at cougars coffee on monday? when is your last class?"

      I stare at the message for a while trying to think of a chill and nonchalant response. Finally I settle on "my last class ends at 12? what about you?" Soon after, the usually volley of texts of two people trying to meet up but their schedules hardly align, ensues. Eventually we decide on Tuesday at one o'clock. 

       All weekend I worry about this meeting, coming up with increasingly horrible scenarios where everything goes wrong. I try to distract myself from this brooding with work and studying, but I can't help but to dwell on it. My plan needs to work out this semester or I might give up on friendship and romance forever. I can't help but feel like there is something wrong with me and that is the reason why nobody has ever asked me out or even hinted that they liked me before. Or why I seem to only be able to cultivate the shallowest of friendships.

     This meeting with April is the best chance I have to work towards my grand semester plan. So, when Tuesday comes around I am back to the fretting and worrying that I sort of managed to distract myself from until today. What if she has a boyfriend? Well, I could still be her friend, right? What if she's totally crazy and mean? She didn't seem like it. In fact, she seemed really kind and genuine, even under a stressful situation. Even so, seemingly nice people can unexpectedly be super transphobic. 

     I walk into Cougar's Coffee, the campus cafe, a few minutes early. There isn't a lot of people here, so it's blessedly quiet. I sit down at a table by the windows with sun streaming through them, a rarity for a winter day. I face the door so I'll know when she walks in. I try not to let my mind spiral into anxious thoughts and instead try to think of all the ways this meeting could go well. I tell myself that I am making way too big a deal out of this whole thing. It's not like this is a first date or anything. I decide to open up my computer to look like I'm getting work done, instead of looking like I'm anxiously awaiting her arrival. 

      Eventually, she walks through the doors, her long, thick hair slightly tousled by the wind. I catch her eye and wave to her, trying to smile casually. "Hi, thanks for meeting up with me."

      "It's no problem," she says, a warm, friendly smile making her face seem to glow slightly. She sits down at the table across from me and fishes around in her backpack, which is pinkish purple and has a few random keychains dangling from it. One says "Reading is Rad!" in a faded red font. After a few moments she takes out a crinkled white envelope from the depths of her backpack and hands it across to me.

     "Oh no, you don't have to give that much," I say, a hint of surprise snaking through my otherwise casual tone. I push the envelope back to her and her eyebrows raise.                                                

     "No, I practically recked your bumper!" She lets out a short, breathy laugh, "I want to pay you for the damage whether you like it or not." Her tone was lighthearted but I know I am not going to be able to get away with her not paying me. I start to feel bad, making her come and meet me here instead of just denying her offer to pay when she first proposed it. And all because of some pathetic plan.

     "I'm not going to take all that money, but if you insist on paying me back how about you buy me a cup of coffee and that'll make up for it."  I smile at her in a way that I hope conveys the fact that I don't want her to feel guilty about crashing into my car. The idea had just popped into my head and without thinking I said it. Now that it's out of my mouth, I feel my cheeks flush slightly. I don't want her to think I'm overtly flirting with her.

    She looks for a moment like she'll deny my proposal and force the envelope on me again, but her face relaxes into a defeated smile. "Do you like it with cream and sugar?"

    I nod. She walks over to the counter and I pretend to be doing stuff on my computer, but I actually sneak a look at the rest of her keychains. You can tell a lot about a person based on their keychains. One is a red crocheted heart, another a cat with a witch's hat, and one a rubber bisexuality pride flag. I usually have some mistrust towards new people because usually it's hard to tell if they are transphobic or not. I feel that some of that mistrust towards her lift a little as I look at that bi keychain. I look back to my computer, I don't want her to look back and catch me staring, and idly look at all the assignments due this week, quite a lot considering it's only the second week of school. I am frowning at a particularly confusing essay prompt when she walks back, holding two steaming cups. 

    "I'd thought I'd get one for myself too, because why not?" She says as she sets one cup down next to my computer. I smile and say thanks and to my surprise she sits back down at the table across from me. I had thought that she would just give me my coffee and go and never speak to me again. A short silence ensues and I feel the need to break it. "So," I say and I feel my self-consciousness start to creep in, "what major are you?" This was the most benign question I could think of that wouldn't be too boring, or too personal, but might actually spark up a conversation. 

     "English," she pauses and takes a sip of her coffee, "I want to be an English teacher. I know that's kind of boring, but English was always my favorite class in high school and I love to read so..." She trailed off and for some reason looked slightly embarrassed. 

    "Well, at least you know what you want to do when you graduate. I'm a history major and have no idea what I'm going to do with that. I've never really thought about being a teacher, but I don't think teaching history would be that bad. I just always thought I'd be bad at teaching." I laugh after I say that, imaging myself as a teacher is somewhat humorous to me.

   "I've always liked history," she says, "and museums. Have you ever thought about working in a museum?" She leans slightly forward as she says this, like she's eagerly awaiting my answer.

   "I have, actually. I would really like to but it's kinda competitive," I pause to take a sip of my coffee, "I have good grades, though, so I guess I can try. Of course I'd have to get at least a Master's degree, but I think I don't mind that."

   And so our conversation went on, easily and without awkward silences, only pausing to sip our coffee. I find myself relaxing more and more as the conversation goes on. She is interesting to talk to and listens attentively when I speak. She is very obviously a kind person, no doubt in my mind about it. I mean, she bought me coffee and stayed to chat when I was little more than a stranger to her. Over our whole conversation she never mentions a boyfriend or girlfriend and I feel a spark of hope. Eventually we bade our goodbyes and I feel happier and lighter than I have in days.