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him.
    He spotted her like a break through the crowd, and he nodded. She, on the other hand, found it hard to swallow, and she created the image of them sitting in the café, sipping chamomile tea in hazy candlelight, while she listened to him spout his woes about his relationship.
    She’d given him his number without expecting much from him. She detected a slight sense of flightiness in him, but he did call, on Christmas Eve and on New Years, leaving voicemails each time.
    “I’m not so sure what the point was of giving me your phone number,” he’d said. “But, it’s me…I’m just calling to wish you a Merry Christmas…right now I’m stuck in Saratoga…my mother and Sophia are out doing last-minute shopping and I decided to stay behind…I needed someone to talk to…and you…and you…never mind…goodbye…”
    She didn’t answer the phone because she didn’t know what they could possibly have to talk about. She wouldn’t even give it a chance. He was different, starkly so, and she wasn’t sure that she could handle having a friend like him.
    He sat down in the empty desk beside her, setting his books down, looking flustered and sweaty. She looked at him in disbelief. She would assume then that only God could perform something this uncanny. She wasn’t sure what she could say to him. Perhaps a quick ‘Hello’, and she’d turn her attention to the teacher. Act unfazed. Or maybe she would apologize for not returning his calls. Maybe he forgot about it. She would hope that he forgot.
    What a jerk she was.
    So, she remained silent, listened to Dr. Kelso, a semi-bald man with a potbelly and stained khakis, quote Socrates in a northern accent, and he stuttered to the point where she was sure his tongue would fall out. It wasn’t until they simultaneously snickered about how loud the professor got, when explaining some random theory that she was sure no one knew what he was talking about.
    It was at that point that they looked at each other, smiled, and he nodded his head again.
    “You never called me back,” he whispered, pretending as if he were writing notes.
    She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t take his phone calls seriously, so she simply sighed, and said, “I’m sorry…”
    “Yea, well,” he responded. “You should be.”
    “How did your break go?”
    Brandon glanced up at the front of the room to make sure that the professor wasn’t looking in his direction, then he leaned over his desk to get closer to her, and said, “Terribly…”
    “How so?”
    “My parents asked about the big ‘M’…”
    “The what?”
    “Marriage, Natalie, marriage…”
    “And? Your response was?”
    “What do you think it was?”
    She pursed her lips. She simply couldn’t understand why he was still with her if he had no intentions of marrying the girl. How crazy! But she remained silent, reached for her notebook and pen and attempted to pay attention.
    “We can’t be friends until you answer my phone calls,” he whispered to her.
    She placed her pen atop her notebook and looked at him. “Who says I want that to happen?”
    “I won’t take that personally…”
    Natalie didn’t know what to say in return. She only faced forward.
    “We should go get something to eat after this class,” he suggested in whisper.
    “What’s with you and food,” she whispered in return, turning to him.
    “I like to eat,” he told her, smiling confidently. “And I have a feeling that you do too…”
    “You don’t know anything about me…”
    “I know enough to know that I want to know you better,” he said, leaving her to her thoughts.

    They went for pitas at the Greek place around the corner, that chilly afternoon. They spent the next few moments, sitting at a cramped table in the back of the small restaurant, talking about how Dr. Kelso made them laugh, and at how they were certain that they wouldn’t be able to understand a word that he said in the following weeks if he didn’t stop