“Yeah,” I agree as I pack the rest of my things.
“I swear, I always end up in groups with the laziest people,” he continues, leading us both out of the classroom and into the busy hallway. “If I had a nickel for every group project I completed by myself, I’d have at least four nickels.”
I laugh. “That’s not that many.”
“Yeah, we didn’t do many group projects at my high school. But still!”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh again. “Wow.”
Halting by the window, Oliver turns to face me, and his intense brown eyes meet mine. The dark-chocolate hue of his irises contrasts with his fair skin and blonde hair, almost startling me. But he grins—a sincere smile that reaches his eyes—and my fascination piques again. “So,” he says. “Do you have anyone in mind to partner with?”
I frown, suspicion gripping me again. Is he trying to manipulate me into being the one to ask? Is he merely looking for an ego boost? Was Max right? Is Oliver trying to flirt with me after all?
Clearly sensing my hesitation, Oliver shakes his head. “Sorry, I just thought—since you’ve already been here a year, you might already know someone in the class, like another person in your social work program. Another sophomore, maybe.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling pretty stupid. “No, I didn’t recognize anyone.”
“Oh, okay,” he replies, smiling again. For a brief moment, I could swear his confidence falters the tiniest bit, but it doesn’t last long. “Should we partner up, then?”
I study him for another second before answering. “Sure, why not?”
“Awesome!” He turns and resumes walking towards the stairs, and I reluctantly follow a few steps behind.
Am I going to regret this? I haven’t hung out with a cishet guy in ages, and now Max and Celeste have me paranoid that Oliver might have a crush on me. But to be honest, I didn’t get a clear picture of his preferences last night. Funny enough, he was the only person who didn’t say anything about his sexuality to the whole room. I, however, was explicit: I am exclusively into girls. As long as he respects that, we should be able to move past any awkwardness.
Right?
“Hey, when’s your next class?” Oliver asks.
I glance at my watch. “One,” I answer, pulling my phone out of my back pocket to confirm which building my next class is in. The Nancy Hart Center. Not far.
“Sweet, me too. Do you want to grab some lunch or something?”
Hesitation surfaces again. This is a lot of interaction with one guy, and it’s not even noon yet. “Um…”
“Hey, it’s cool if you don’t,” Oliver clarifies. “Absolutely no pressure. We’ll see each other around.”
Relief mingles with fondness, and my apprehension dissipates. “I could eat,” I say with a smile. “Besides, I know where all the good places are.”
Oliver’s face brightens. “Lead the way, sensei,” he says, bowing his head slightly to me.
I cringe. “None of that, please.”
“Yep, sorry. I regretted it immediately.”
Oliver and I end up grabbing sandwiches at the Student Center—they have a nice deli shop run by a local family business—and camp out at a small booth by a window. It takes much longer than expected to eat because neither of us can stop talking. To my surprise, Oliver is far more intriguing than I gave him credit for. He’s funny, yes, but he’s also sharp, perceptive, and well-read. He and I hit it off far better than I could have imagined. I almost forget he’s a guy.
Before parting ways, Oliver and I exchange numbers. For the project, of course.
“You'd better not end up being a creep that stalks me after this class,” I warn as he hands my phone back to me.
“Nah,” Oliver replies. “I don’t think I’d make a good stalker, to be honest. With my height and long hair, I stick out like a sore thumb in most places, so I’m not exactly stealthy. Plus, it’s way too much work for little payoff. If I’m going to have a run-in with the law, I hope it’s for something way cooler than violating a restraining order.”
“Oh? Like what?”
He shrugs. “Something victimless, for sure. Like, for being an agitator at a peaceful protest, or trashing a conversion therapy camp or something.”
My chest warms at that. He really does seem like a good guy, which I thought was an oxymoron these days. College continues to surprise me.
