Before,
I only had a flimsy, hazy memory of one autumn evening.
I was waiting to pick up in the boys' hall, lounging on the floor when he appeared from nowhere and introduced himself.
Charming and tall and self-deprecating, I warmed to him immediately. (His eyes still have the same affect on me as they did back then)
Later, he told me he remembered the first time we met, and it wasn't in that moment.
The weekend before classes started, I was smashed in the courtyard with D, getting hit on by these nasty *** upperclassmen, when he walked by with a group of friends.
I, obnoxious, drunkenly charming, singled him out and I--
I hit on him.
Inebriated, unabashedly. Later, his comments about his eyebrows and the faces he pulled confused me, until
one night, laughingly, he asked me if I remembered the night I met him. He told me, gleefully, how I complimented him on his eyebrows. I don't think I've ever been more mortified, only to find out that he was just as embarrassed by the joke he made the night he found me outside his door, the night I thought we first met...