Some men seduce women with next to no effort. They can speak to a lady, make her laugh, get her phone number, then go on a date with her. In some cases, they get even more. Those types of men were very social; they usually went to exclusive nightclubs, had large social circles, and dressed fashionably.
I wasn't like that; I've always been somewhat quiet and reserved. I didn't have—or want—a large circle of friends. I was fine with the one or two close comrades I had. I didn't care for nightclubs or fashion, either. Even when I was in high school, I enjoyed reading and writing far more than going to parties (not that I was cool enough to go to one). As a result of my unpopularity, I admired the beauties in my high school from afar, and watched as they paired up with guys who had more status and were more outgoing than I had been. Whenever I did muster up the courage to ask a young lady out, she would tell me that I made a better platonic friend than lover.
I decided to go to a small school in the South, where I could get a fresh start. At first, I loved the school. My university was known for having some very beautiful scenery, and some of the most attractive women around. I saw many young ladies going to school in very fine clothes, as though we were all part of some fashion Mecca. Not to mention, I heard many of the girls talk about going to the school's fitness center to keep themselves in shape (and I certainly noticed their efforts).
However, when I got there, much of the same dynamics were in play. Despite my attempts to be more outgoing, I still found myself relegated to outcast status. Even though some of the students didn't mind talking to me, many of them were interested in parties and drinking, as most college students tend to be. I suppose I was the atypical college student, since I wasn't partial to those things. As a result, I kept to myself, sitting alone, spending my spare time reading and writing.
Once most of the other college kids saw me acting this way, many of them called me nerd, geek, lame, and loser, insults I grew familiar with in middle school and high school. That made me retreat further into myself and literature. Eventually, on our small campus, I became the pariah. But, I was all right with that. I wasn't the sort of person to care what most people think of me.
I saw the countless beautiful women walking around my college campus, either walking with each other or holding hands with other guys—most of whom were in fraternities, on sports teams, or who were always at the parties, and sighed. Much like my earlier years, the girls weren't interested in a guy who didn't party or wasn't cool. Some girls were kind in rejecting me, while others were meaner. A handful ignored me altogether. Seeing such boundless beauty around the campus and knowing that none of the girls found me dateable was pure torture.
One Monday, I arrived ten minutes early to my morning biology class and took my seat at the front of the room on the left side, the seat closest to the door. I took my paper and pens out of my backpack, watching the other students enter and take their seats on the other side of the room towards the back, starting conversations and gossip as the seats became filled.
I heard a clicking noise outside the classroom, and immediately recognized it. Our school was known for having fashionable students—especially the girls—and there were always a few women who wore high heels to class, sometimes every day.
The clicking grew louder, and soon a pretty, slender, brown-skinned girl carrying one of those huge handbags passed through the doorway. She was wearing a white T-shirt, slim blue jeans, and as expected, a pair of beige high heels. I rose an eyebrow; I didn't recall seeing her before, but then again, since I sat in the front in my classes, I didn't know who most of the people in my classes anyway.
"Good morning," she said as she passed my desk, a bright smile on her face.
At first, I didn't respond. Even though I was in the South, and people usually spoke, I wasn't sure if she was speaking to me. There were a few times when I thought a girl was speaking or waving to me, but it was really another person near me. I said "good morning" back to her in a quiet tone, and she smiled a little brighter and went to her desk on the other side of the room, talking with some of the students over there.
The professor r came in a few seconds after her and began the lecture. I paid attention and took notes as usual, while the other students in the class goofed off. The teacher reminded us that we had a quiz on Friday and told us to study hard, which I always did, though I didn't need to; much of the information I still remembered from high school. After class, I gathered my things, then went through another day reading, writing, and studying.
On Wednesday, I got to biology fifteen minutes early and took a seat in my usual spot, then got ready, losing myself in thought. The other students walked through the door and took their seats, chatting amongst themselves. I just read the biology textbook, reviewing for the quiz, drowning out the background chatter.
In the distance, I heard the familiar clip-clop of high heels again. I'm not sure what it was about that sound, but it always got my attention. I looked up, and soon, the girl from the other day walked in, this time wearing a pair of high-heeled black boots.
Again, she looked me in the eyes and said "good morning," then asked me how I was doing, though it was really more of a formality; she didn't want to stay and talk. I told her I was doing fine, then she passed by and took her seat. The teacher came in and began the lecture, and I took notes the whole period.
That Friday, I got to class early and sat down in my usual seat. The other students came in, talking about how much they were dreading the quiz. Some of them went partying for Thirsty Thursday and forgot to study, I thought. I took my book out and reviewed for the quiz just in case, stopping only when I heard the sound of high heels on the wooden floor.
Once again, it was the slim, brown-skinned girl. This time, she walked a little closer to my desk when she passed by my desk.
"Good luck on the quiz!" she said, a smile on her face.
"Thanks, same to you," I said. She went over to her seat and started reviewing.
The professor came in and distributed the ten-question quiz. It could have taken me more than a few minutes to do; since I reviewed a lot for it, I knew the answer to every question on it. Then, after everyone was done, she started the fifty-minute lecture. Before we left, she reminded us that we had an exam next Friday. I jotted it down in my schedule before packing my belongings and walking out.
On the way to my next class, I thought about the svelte, attractive girl who had been greeting me all this week, then chuckled. She was just being friendly, I thought. She might have been one of those girls who was just friendly, even to people who weren't really popular.
Still ... I did like those greetings, as brief as they were. She had an immense elegance about her, and I loved interacting with beautiful women, no matter how brief it may be.
Though I wished our interactions would be longer ...
*****
Next Monday, I sat in my usual chair and got ready for class. The other students came in and started talking about the parties and clubs they went to over the weekend, laughing as they exchanged stories. I listened for the clicking of high heels, but didn't hear it this morning. When the professor came in and the class went on, I figured the girl who had been greeting me all those mornings wouldn't be coming to school today. Even though it was just a short cordiality, I still disliked not seeing a familiar, friendly (and beautiful) face.
We got our quizzes back, and as I thought, I had a perfect score. I put the quiz away and waited for the teacher to finish passing out the quizzes and when she finished with that and began the lecture, I made sure to pay attention to ready myself for Friday's test.
At 12:30, I finished lunch and walked to the library to do some studying. I went to the third floor and sat near one of the windows, enjoying the sunshine and looking out of the window every so often. Several students passed by, many of them girls wearing short, tight tube skirts, formfitting dresses, and sandals, laughing with each other or with tall, popular, athletic guys.
I figured I might as well review for the biology exam coming up. I took my biology book out and read the chapter corresponding to our test. A few minutes later, I heard someone say, "Excuse me." I looked up from my textbook and when I saw who it was, I smiled.
It was the girl who had been exchanging short pleasantries with me last week. She was wearing some blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and her black high-heel boots again, making her look leggy. I hadn't noticed her hair, but it was short, and though I preferred longer hair, I still felt that short hair suited her.
"You're in my biology class, right?" I nodded. "You were there today, right? Do you know what we did?"
"Yeah. I'll give you my notes." I fished inside of my backpack and took out a sheet of paper with my notes on it and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she said, taking it.
"It's no problem. You can hold on to it for a while, if you want. Are you going to be in class on Wednesday?"
She laughed. "Yes. I would have been in class today, but sometimes, the buses run late."
I rose an eyebrow. "Oh, you commute to school?" She nodded. "Hmm. I thought you lived on campus."
"No. I'm actually a transfer student," she said, then after a short pause, she laughed. "I'm sorry; I'm here asking you for favors and I haven't even introduced myself. That must make me look terrible."
