Days as a Freshman: 79
Mood: Headachy

“Oooohkay. I just did something stupid.”

Sliding onto the bench next to Naima and across from Crystal, I put my steaming mug of hot chocolate down before it burned my skin.

“I just did something really stupid.”

“What?” Taking her pen out of her mouth, Naima looked over at me, squinting in the dim coffee house light. “What could you have possibly done in the last twenty-four hours that’s so horrible?”

“Oooh, enough.” Licking my fingers, I did a quick survey of the small campus coffee shop to make sure certain people weren’t around. “I think I just ruined my Thanksgiving break.”

“Tell us already, woman!” Closing her books, Crystal crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at my forehead. “You take forever getting to the point.”

“Well, you know how Daniel B. has been tutoring me in Chemistry?” I took a sip from my chipped mug. “A few nights ago Sasha wasn’t there and it was just us…”

“Jesus, was it awkward?”

Crystal knew Daniel B. well. They both wrote for the college newspaper and Daniel B’s long-winded speeches were the only thing Crystal talked about after their weekly meetings. “That kid is the weirdest person on the planet. You know, at our last reporter meeting, he spent fifteen minutes detailing the intricate details of chess? I wanted to stab myself.”

“At the end of our session, I asked him if he was going home for Thanksgiving, just to be polite.” I leaned closer into the table, having to speak over the moody, indie CD that had just been turned up. “He said that since he lives in Oregon, he didn’t have the money to fly home. So he was going to spend the holiday with a distant aunt in Maine.”

“Which is where you live…” Naima said, no doubt knowing what was coming next.

“Right. So…I just…he looked so sad about it and his aunt lives in the next town over from me so I just…”

“Oh shit,” Crystal hid behind her half-finished milk shake. “You didn’t!”

“I invited him over to my house for dessert.”

My friends stared at me in disbelief. I took a drink of hot chocolate and tried to keep the awkward memory from causing my cheeks to flush all over again.

“Grace, you have no idea what you’ve done!”

Crystal’s eyes were wide with horror. “You just invited a chess-master nerd into your own home. That’s death!”

“What if your relatives think he’s your boyfriend?” Naima squealed in laughter, causing a bunch of kids sitting at the next table over to look at us. “What if he thinks he’s your boyfriend?”

“He knows he’s not my boyfriend!” I squealed back, making sure to leave out the fact that he had worn a lot of cologne at our last study session. “I was being friendly. I was being nice.”

“What? Grace being nice? Unheard of!”

We all looked up at the same time to see Sasha and a tall friend of his standing next to our table. Sasha’s friend held a plate with bagels and cream cheese and wore his collar starched and popped.

“Hey Sasha…” My body stiffened and my face went hot at his attention. “I was just talking about…you missed our last study session.”

“Shit!” Sasha slapped his head, almost knocking his friend’s bagel plate over in the process. “I told myself not to forget it. I even wrote it down in my stupid planner.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I didn’t, and for a second, there was nothing but weird quiet. My usually chatty friends had done noticeably silent around Sasha these days, not sure what they thought about his Soccer House scandal story.

“Well…anyway…Stevens and I are gonna be sitting by the door. Before you leave, stop over. I had a question.”

“You can’t ask it now?” Naima looked up at Sasha without the slightest hint of hesitation or fear.

“It’s no big deal.” He met her gaze with a friendly smile, either not feeling or deliberately ignoring her slightly hostile energy. “Wouldn’t want to break up the study party.”

And with that, Sasha and his giant friend turned and walked toward their destination, the plateful of bagels almost tipping over two more times as the tall kid did his best to maneuver the low, log-cabin-esque ceilings.

“Every time he talks to me, I like him less.” Setting her pen against her lips again, Naima kept her eyes unapologetically on Sasha. “How can he hang out with assholes and still be that friendly all the time? Something doesn’t connect.”

I looked down into my hot chocolate, concentrating on the swirling brown liquid and forgoing an answer. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, I was beginning to feel the same thing.

Something about Sasha didn’t add up.