Running Sprints.

Here is a tale. A semi-hilarious, but also, pretty awkward tale that can be true to life here at times.

Sometimes the stereotypes are very, very real.

Sooo, one time, and by one time, I mean Tuesday, you were an awkward lad across my Physical Science classroom. The classroom is a half circle, so if I look up and zone out, it's inevitably towards the opposite side of the room. I didn't feel it worth a mention Tuesday, but it has escalated and now is worth talking about. So okay, that's established. I look over there if I even look up at all. That's something totally fine, right?

Except, it began to be something I didn't like, because there you were, some kid across the room who kept looking over and trying to draw my eye, doing a little half smile, some sort of on-purpose slight blink... Um, excuse me? Can I help you? Probably not... because you'd like that too much.

But here's the thing about me, I have a weird brain. I jump to these places quite easily, so I got to thinking and realized I was probably being egotistical to think you was actually smiling at me and therefore creeping on me. I'm not a hot piece of woman, and I certainly don't groom for college. And that kind of thinking could very well be the result of paralyzing fear of all the MEN down here, or the prevalence of pepper spray in both my purse and my mother's conversations to me on the daily. Either way, I laughed at myself, and just decided to never look anywhere but at our professor for the rest of the time. Which was pretty easy. He's an enamoring person.

So fast forward to today. I'm sitting outside my Physical Science class with Charly and this other kid, and we're talking about life and school and what-have-you (whenever I think of that phrases, I think of my old CNA teacher Joy. She over-used it. She'd always say, what-have-you, and I'd say, what-have-I...? What HAVE I, JOY.) and it's all fine and good. Finally we start wrangling the elephant in the room - we are all going to fail this class. So, we whip out our phones to exchange numbers, Charly and I... and you, that KID from Tuesday, appear out of nowhere. Speedy as anything, you've got our numbers as well. I mean, what?! How does someone that tall just APPEAR? But you did. SWEET PETE HE DID.

Next thing I know, we're in class and you've somehow positioned yourself so that you're RIGHT at my elbow. I like to have a little elbow room. I make flailing arm motions. It's a habit. Anyway, you then proceeded to follow us when we moved up a row so we could see better. Which is totally fine, it's good to have associates in your classes. What's a little less fine with me - and I can be a petty person, I'll admit freely - is that for the rest of class, you insisted on copying my notes - word for word, placement on the paper and everything EXACTLY. You even touched my arm at times, leaned my paper toward you and smiled at me as though we were sharing some sort of special secret. My bubble (which, given, has times of non-existence and times of hyper-activity, depending) PROTESTED. SIR. No. You'd think someone coughcoughyoucough who had returned only figurative moments ago from your mission (2 weeks) would have more of a bubble. Alas.

After class, when I knew Charly would inevitably walk the other way, and I wondered to myself, which way you would choose to pursue. It was mine. You were suddenly towering over me asking, "So should we like, go to the book store or library and look for our textbook?" Um. Well, when did we become we? We've progressed quite quickly in the past fifty minutes, haven't we? Hasty, hasty. So I'm like, "Suuuuure?" in a tone I think betrays my weirded-outed-ness.

But you seem undeterred, and we continue on our merry way to the library. Our conversation is pleasant, and we get along just fine. Yet I can't help but feel a nearly paralyzing panic, as you pull you chair next to me, watch me do all the researching for out textbook in the computer rather than doing your own, as you continuously mention the fact that our afternoon class - about three hours from now, is also together. Do you think we're going to stay together until then? Sit together then as WELL?! My blood is pumping and I can't help but feel the enormously spacious library close in on me.

I... like to be alone. I really actually do. I love seeing people and hanging out between classes, but I like to reserve at least half an hour for myself. Is that selfish? Does that make me a bad person? Maybe, but this post isn't about my good qualities. It's about the fact that despite this kid's apparent normality, I just want to be ALLLLLOOOONNNNE. Let me be clear: I'm not against dates. I think they're good opportunities for free food. Oh I mean learning. But. What I am against is the changing of my subjective personal pronoun without reason or consent... When did I become we? I literally don't even know your name.

Couple strikes, here. Three, actually? Strike 1) You're an RM. Which is something I like, and something I want in my future spouse - but here's the clincher. I turned 18 nary two weeks ago. So the whole spouse thing is a loooooong way off. Moral of the strike: Everything you are is terrifying to me.
Strike 2) You are tall and skinny, charming, and have a slightly arrogant sense of humor, and you played hockey all through high school. Those close to me will understand why that is... awkward.
Strike 3) I JUST NEED TO START MY READING, I had planned to get it done during this three hour gap, maybe get a little sun in the courtyard.
Strike 4) (I hadn't intended on there being this many strikes. Sorry, mister. I am getting mildly carried away.) I didn't like the way you responded to my major and future life plans. I get that Early Childhood Education could potentially scream to you, I JUST WANT TO STAY HOME AND KNIT STOCKINGS FOR MY BABIES AND BRAID MY HAIR. I JUST WANT TO BE A MOTHER. And true, though I don't knit, I like all of those things. Stockings are nice. And I would be completely happy if I was in a position where I could focus on being a mommy. That's the world's best/hardest/most-fulfilling job. It's not for wimps. But. When I made the comment that it might sound dumb, your sweet reassurance, "No... I like it" complete with arm brush, was not appreciated. I won't mother your babies!

You and I then trekked to pretty much every building on campus. My conversation waned. However pleasant our friendship could've been, you were coming on too strong for me to stay engaged (poor word choice). Alone time, alone time, alone time. It played like some sort of Gregorian chant in my head. GET ME OUTTA HERE.

"So what're we gonna do for the next two hours?" Because yes, people. About one whole one had elapsed.
"I think I'm going to go read for another class in the courtyard."
"Cool, let's go."

So yes, when you finally saw someone you knew by the bookstore, I kept walking. Slowly, so as to seem casual, like I wasn't trying to remember techniques I had learned in ninth grade for running sprints. Except that I was. You seemed to notice my leaving - I was watching you with terror in the glass reflection behind me. You tried to disengage. I STARTED SPEED WALKING LIKE AN OLD WOMAN IN THE PARK. I couldn't help it!! You finally got away. I was already out in the courtyard, literally leaping across the cement blocks in the fountain to get away fast enough. You were coming after me. I spied a woman wedged in the corner, reading a textbook. By herself. Just as I would like to have been doing. So even though I knew she wanted to be alone - knew because I UNDERSTOOD, woman, I invaded her space. I wiggled my big booty somehow in the six inches (I'm exaggerating) of space between her and the cement wall - clearly leaving no room for the "we" that somehow had formed... And then there you were, standing over me as I tried to read my textbook. Welp. It's college, with so many people walking by, I might not have seen you. It's plausible.

You did one of those laughs, that begs someone to look or ask you what funny text you just read. I stayed focused. You walked off.

I spent the next two hours recounting this story and other, weirder ones that cannot even be posted on my blog to my friend Natalie. She walked me in to my afternoon class to protect me, but there you were, standing up and shouting my name like we'd just made out. When I gave you a friendly, but curt, "Hello to you, sir!" and hurried to my seat with my new friend Haley across the room, you then spent the rest of class staring at me like we should have inside jokes about everything said. I was just trying to underSTAND anything said. You began encroaching on the space of the girl next to you, your arm around the back of her chair, and your eyes on me like this should make me WILD.

When that didn't work, you listened for my name on the roll and PROMPTLY ADDED ME ON FACEBOOK.

Sir, stop. I just wanted to spend my in-between-class-times-alone, and by snatching that away from me like a greedy obese boy in the M & Ms store full of samples, without any indication of my wanting your company at that time, you ruined any chance of you not bugging the absolute HELLO out of me.

Bye.