This is my first story and just a set up. The raunchy bits will come later I promise.
When you're 18 years old you can fall in love almost every day. It's something of a gift the ability to see a shapely pair of legs in a tight skirt and be instantly infatuated. You think that your life has changed forever and in the moment you truly understand what it's like to be an adult, until she turns the corner and you realize you're late for class. That's what it was like for me my first year of college. I'm from New York and moving to Mass for school gave me quite a bit of freedom. It was the first time I was honestly and truly alone too which only added to the overwhelming nature of the new experiences flooding my senses. Now don't misinterpret me I did know what girls looked like, probably in a lot more detail than I should, thanks internet, but I was never really present until I got to college. Allow me to explain. All throughout high school I was your quintessential nerd. I mean I fit all the stereotypes. I preferred quality alone time reading to a raucous party, did well in school with little effort and generally did my best rendition of wall as I walked from class to class. Basically I was harmless, silent, and content coasting my way through my education. Sometime around the end of senior year though I had an epiphany. I had already sent my deposit to school and figured that in just a few short months I'd never have to see any of these people again, so I developed somewhat of a more outgoing personality. People finally started seeing me and they were surprised. Now this is not a movie. Don't think for one moment I'm about to tell you that because I took off my glasses, (Yes my eyesight is quite poor), and dressed a little better every girl in school wanted a piece. That's not even close to what happened. Instead I just started making closer friends and honing my social skills. Anti-climactic I know, but I figured it was something I needed to learn eventually. Full of confidence I left for college a new man, ready to tackle college as an active participant instead of a passive observer.
Cut to the first week of class and I'm awe struck by every girl that walks by, cursing myself for not even trying to talk to any of them. All that practice wasted. At this point some of you might still be on my side thinking my incompetence could maybe be taken as flattering or adorable. The rest of you, and this is where I am, are looking at this description either mildly mortified or maybe awkwardly laughing. Well let me fill in the gaps for you so you have a good description to laugh at. I'm 5 foot 7 as a result of a fantastic growth spurt my senior year that brought me from a 5 foot nothing baby to an average fake adult. I have brown hair and brown eyes and dress in jeans and a collared shirt on most days; always monochromatic. In other words, I'm what I like to call impressively average. Anyways the object of my affection today was Julia, a spunky blonde girl with a penchant for outlandishly short shorts and a physically radiant; bubble of self-confidence. She by the luck of some deity decided that today of all days she was going to sit right next to me in chemistry and let me have just the tiniest whiff of her perfume. Now as any hot-blooded boy my age would be I immediately started fantasizing about what it would be like to talk to her or maybe if I was really lucky kiss her. (Yes even my fantasies knew I had no chance.) As a result, I was half through a really steamy part of my fantasy, you know right when I was about to tell her she looked nice or something when my concentration was broken.
"Hey." "I'm Julia, nice to meet you."
Naturally I assumed she was talking to someone else, until she repeated it. Which contrary to popular belief did not result in a myocardial infarction, nerd speak for heart attack.
"Um," I muttered and then followed with an unhealthy level of pause. "I'm Tyler."
"Cool, so like is this your major or something."
"Yes."
"Oh neat, me too. I guess you're going to be seeing me all the time. Hopefully we get along or whatever. So like where you from? Where do you live on campus? You know the questions you've probably been getting all day."
Turns out we lived in the same building only one floor apart. She was from California and wanted a taste of east coast living. Something about seasons appealed to her and she wanted above all else to catch a snowflake on her tongue for the first time. I assured her the east coast would provide ample opportunity, but less elegantly than that of course.
For weeks Julia and I sat together in chemistry and time in that class went by like a blur. Now don't get me wrong she was a pleasant distraction, but I still put school above my love life and was doing quite well in all my classes as the first round of exams rolled around. With chemistry only a week ago I decided to jump into uncharted waters, in what I can guarantee was the bravest moment of my young life.
"So with the exam next week, we should study together. If, you're not busy," I managed to choke out in something pretty similar to normal tone.
"Cool, I'll come by your room at 5 tomorrow. It's really only chapter 4 I'm having a hard time with. The rest is basically beginner stuff. Did it all in high school. Which room is yours again?"
Time stopped. I mentally celebrated and somehow calmly gave her my room number and agreed to meet her tomorrow, but when the time came the nerves had somehow disappeared. It was weird. It was like I accepted just hours before she knocked on my door that she was so outside the realm of possibility that I should just treat her like one of my new guy friends or something. That would totally work. Let me also point out my roommate's high school girlfriend also went to school with us and was a year older. As a result, she had an off campus apartment he essentially lived in. We were cordial when we talked, but he had graced me with his presence on Tuesday to tell me he probably wouldn't be back until Sunday.
