Sunday, July 12, 2009


Back in undergrad, she had a crush on this boy in her dorm. He was a freshman Adonis from the midwest, sporty in all the hardcore ways that make him a perfect fit for a mountain state university, sharp as a wit in his area of study over in the engineering department, and a free-thinking artsy fella who loved to cook and ski. He was charming, and he knew it. Yet, while his flirting mechanisms bordered on antagonistic, he was a good looker through it all, which was hard to overlook. He was up for any challenge of physical prowess on his beloved mountain bike, out climbing the famed surrounding canyons, bouldering at the student cove, or getting in a good workout at the gym. And he played the guitar - knew all of the Live from Luther College CD by heart, as well as more classical guitar pieces. On lazy afternoons in the dorm, he would come and sit in her dorm room and play while she read.

She thought he was the shit. He was cute. She was cute. They were perfect. And, their birthdays were a day apart. (And to her sophomoric mind, if that doesn't scream 'cosmic soul mate' status, what does?)

Of course, like all her crushes, nothing ever happened. She wasn't into playing the game (what game?) and hated games in general, so the flirty girls in the dorm captured his attention, and she pretended not to notice. They had a rapport as friends with strong mutual interests, backgrounds, smarts, and always something worthwhile to talk about.

When she left that beloved university town to finish up her degree in her home state before moving on to the idyllic mountain town for her graduate coursework, they lost touch. But, she thought of him often and randomly, like every time she saw a white Subaru. Some days, she had this strange feeling that he was here, they just hadn't crossed paths yet.

Her thoughts kept circling back to him more frequently as of late. She found herself contemplating all of this in the freezer section at the local grocery store, while getting smoothie ingredients and trying to ignore the coconut ice cream and all the pies. As she was tossing bags of strawberries into her cart and reaching back into the cold for more mango chunks, she heard a familiar sounding voice coming from behind the glass door of the frozens case that was fogging up from the warmer air of the aisle. She stepped back, let the door go with a bouncy slam, and there he was.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

actually, that never happened. but it's a good story. she did figure out how to spell his last name. so she googled him...