He didn’t walk.  He strolled into class each day with no sort of urgency.  Five minutes late? Not a problem to him.  It intrigued me.  The way a child is intrigued by a dog the first time the meet.  Slightly terrified and overly excited. 

He was a completely different student than I was.  My ducks were always in a row, nothing late, never absent.  He wasn’t a trouble maker, he got good grades, and always respected the professor but there was a hint of inattentiveness in his studies that interested me.  And those eyes.  God, those eyes interested me.  They told a story.

The first time our eyes met was like waves crashing onto a beach.  Mine, blue.  His, a sandy brown.  All I remember thinking was it would be an honor to be loved by those eyes.