You burst through the door of the classroom and make your way to the back row. After plopping clumsily down, you scan the sea of faces. The girl you sat next to in your History Gen Ed waves and a khaki-clad guy makes an announcement about an upcoming student election. You’re about to reach down to grab your notebook and then –
The heavy wooden door swings open and he strolls in. It’s as if he walks in slow motion and your wide eyes follow him as he makes his way down the aisle of seats. He’s three desks away; then, two; then, he glides effortlessly into the seat beside you. You realize you’re staring and snap your head forward. He definitely saw you.
It’s him: the in-class crush. There’s always that one. You spend the semester dreaming about the long-awaited encounter you’ll share and then, to your dismay, you hand in your final exam or paper and he’s gone. But dealing with him isn’t that simple.
First, he’s the one piece of news that you’re sure to share with all of your friends.
Then, you’re getting up early to pick out an outfit that makes you seem cool and alluring.
You’ve even skipped breakfast to get to class early and keep your same seat.
When you make eye contact you feel obligated to say hello.
You’re conflicted. You need a participation grade, but you’re afraid you’ll say something stupid.
But whenever he speaks, you give him your undivided attention.
You consult with friends on how to break the ice.
And have nightmares of screwing everything up.
You decide it’s better to admire him from afar.
And on Facebook.
The semester flies by and soon you’re sitting in that final exam lecture. You, of course, look around to find him.
On your way out you give him one last glance.
But you’re not too heartbroken. There’s always next semester’s guy.