top of page

          You pull your phone out of your pocket, glancing back and forth between the screen and the hallway around you.

          When Inez passes you, you say quickly, "Excuse me, can you help me?"

          A small frown crosses her lips and then just as quickly disappears.  "What do you need?"

          "I'm supposed to meet Professor Brantley at his office," you say.  You point to the number on the classroom door she's just come out of.  "Room 125."

          "Well, that's not a professor's office."

          "Apparently not."

          "What building?"

          "Donaldson."

          "Well that's your problem," Inez says.  "This isn't Donaldson Hall.  It's Penn Hall."

          You glance back down at your phone again.  It's not much of a stretch for you to fake a befuddled look.

          "Donaldson is like clear across the quads," Inez tells you.  "How did you get so turned around?"

          "I have absolutely no idea."

          "Well here," she says.  She turns to go, gesturing for you to follow her.

          "I really appreciate it," you tell her as you follow her through the crowd.  "I'm already ten minutes late."

          "Make them wait," she suggests breezily.  "You don't want to appear too eager."

          The chuckle you give in response is genuine.  She may not be your physical type, but you're finding her sense of humor quite attractive.

          She leads you out into the early afternoon.  Crisp fall air stings your nose.

          She touches the back of your shoulder and steers you until your facing the direction she's pointing.  "See that bell tower over there?"

          "Yeah."

          "Donaldson is two buildings down from that.  You can't miss it."

          You make a big show of peering across the quad.  "Can't you come show me? you ask.

          "Sorry, got a class," she says, although you're pretty sure she doesn't.  She walks off in the other direction, and you can't think of an excuse to follow her that wouldn't come off as creepy.

          It doesn't matter anyway, you tell yourself.  You've got all the time in the world, after all – literally – so there's no reason to rush things.  Wait 'til you get it right.

          So you jump back sixty seconds into the hallway full of people, half of them already texting someone on their phones.

         Inez appears. You decide to

Or you can think better of it, deciding instead to


Web site © 2024 by Alex Kolker.  All rights reserved.

bottom of page