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.