We’d occasionally hear an ‘Oh, fuck!’ yelled out when a low lottery number was called, and a friend of mine with a 4.0 in electrical engineering drew lottery number five, this was after President Nixon had ended student deferments, so my buddy was going to go into the Army. My lottery number was 264, so I was safe. But, I digress. I was on my way to class one morning, walking up the sidewalk from Euclid Avenue, going past the Student Center, with these long, poorly-planned steps — a riser, then six feet to the next riser — up toward the Patterson Office Tower and the Whitehall Classroom Building, when I ran into Jennifer. I am a very fast walker, and she was burdened down with books and papers. Her one dress concession to college was a backpack for some of her books, but it was a cheap, small one, and she had other stuff in her arms, and it was sliding out. Recognizing her even from behind — no one else dressed like that at UK — I caught up to her and offered to help. ‘Oh, Mark,. Then what? His mind reeled and his heart ached. Was this love or just madness? He feared it was both. —————————– Morning again, the train, her. Once again that smile, but this time it seemed to linger, it was more than just a good morning smile, wasn’t it? He couldn’t do this everyday, not knowing. He had to make that move. He could find an excuse to be on that train, next to her. He decided, tomorrow he would make that move. What had he to lose, apart from everything. He could hardly sleep that night but he was determined, success or humiliation, anything was better than this purgatory. —————————– He sat down on the train, he had 5 minutes to get across that platform to her, he could hardly look but forced himself, she was not there! Maybe she had taken the day off, it was Friday, many people occasionally took an early weekend, she was young, beautiful, she would need those fun times. ——————————– The weekend was not good, worrying about her, he yearned for Monday and her face.
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