My Freshman Year: Day 72

Days as a Freshman: 72

Mood: Jumpy

“Grace?”

Sasha’s voice was louder this time, his hand still on my foot. He thought I was sleeping. Maybe I should pretend to sleep through his visit? I didn’t have to sit up and talk to him.

“Hey, Sasha.” But I did anyway. Pushing the pillow off my head I turned around and sat up in my bed. I rubbed my eyes a little to make it look like I had been sleeping, not like I had been wide-awake and contemplating answering him for the last thirty seconds.

“Hey.” Sasha smiled. The kind of smile I knew too well. The sweet, friendly smile that lit up his whole face and my whole chest. It’d be nice to live in that smile. Sleep on it like a hammock.

“What’s up? I thought you’d be out with everyone else.” I pulled a few stray pieces of hair behind my ears and wondered what I looked like. It wasn’t impressive, whatever it was. Nothing like the short skirts and lace up boots that were undoubtedly walking all over campus tonight. Nothing like the type of girls Sasha hung out with on a daily basis.

“Oh, I’m wearing a costume. Can’t you tell?”

Taking my eyes off his smile, I let them travel down his body and saw that he was wearing checkered pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, his rooms keys attached to a chain around his neck. I tried to keep my gaze from staying to long on any part of him, looking away quickly when I started to notice how thin his shirt was. Could guys tell when you were checking them out?

“I’m a freshman!” He pulled his key necklace out to show me. “See? I carry my keys around my neck because I’m really nervous about losing them.”

“You’re making fun of us!” I grabbed a small pillow and threw it at him, laughing. “Freshmen are supposed to stick together!”

Sasha caught the pillow in one hand and threw it back, aiming for my forehead and hitting his target precisely. “The soccer guys made me do it. First Halloween on campus, whatever they say goes. I’m one of the luckier ones, believe me.”

Sitting down, Sasha patted my comforter. “I like this, “ he said, running his hands over the antique rose design. “It reminds me of being home in Vermont.”

His mention of the soccer house temporarily shook my concentration, but I did my best to keep my voice light. “You’re from Vermont? I didn’t know that. Where are your Birkenstocks and homemade sweaters?”

“Oh, the sweaters are coming.” Looking up from my bedspread, Sasha smiled again. We were only about a foot away from each other and I could smell his deodorant. Sasha never wore cologne, just a fresh smelling deodorant that reminded me of exactly how I wanted a guy to smell.

“Hey, do you have a boyfriend?”

My stomach crashed and I almost choked on my own breath. What had he just asked?

“I just…I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Me?” I shook my head to clear it. Easy, Grace. Just answer the damn question. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Been single for a while…” Oh, great. Now you sound and weird and desperate. Awesome. “Do you? I mean…do you have a girlfriend?”

The pause between my question and Sasha’s answer felt odd. Heavy. Like there was a lot said but I wasn’t meant to hear it.

“I don’t” he exhaled, his hand going still against the bedspread. “Not anymore.” He opened his mouth again, but closed it before anything else escaped. “Anyway, I came by to talk to you about something.” His eyes slid down away from my face. “I guess it might actually have to do with girlfriends.”

I know what you’re going to say, I thought. And it’s not what I wish it was.