So his interview happened. I thought to myself: Wow he is kind of cold, kind of distant, kind of cocky. Little did I know I was so off the mark.

I wasn't even attracted to him. I appreciated that he was talented, but I wasn't all that excited about it.

He had a crazy, rockstar way about him. Disinterested and introspective, his hair was messy in a way that always looked good. His skin was a golden shade that looked like it was always soft-lit. It made me want to touch his face.  He had an earring, the kind that rockers have, in the upper cartilage of his ear. 
People often called him beautiful, amongst other synonyms.
He liked to flip his hair out of his face, although it never really moved. His eyes looked old, worn, as if they had seen many things, both pleasant and unpleasant.

So I went to Borders to read on that Thursday night. He called me and told me to meet him at our drinking spot, named after those who are artists for the sake of art. How poetic. I assumed there would be others; but it was just him and his guitarist.

We drank and drank. and drank. And I thought that he must not be interested in me by the way he was looking at me. It was somewhat of a stony, impaling gaze.

They asked me to go back to their place. They said they would smoke some weed, they would play some songs, it would be a beautiful beautiful thing. So that is what happened. I was too drunk to drive anyway.
There was a guitar in my passenger seat; I had not moved it out of laze. He said that was hot.
So I sat in my 2 seater convertible squished under a guitar but was happy.

We went back. I felt heavy. They felt artistic. I sat and listened. They played for hours. He looked at me as he sang, and I found myself wondering what to do with my face.  I would smile and look away. I thought, I'm not sure if that is ettiquette. Guitarist went to sleep. He and I began to talk. I thought, There is no way he is interested in me. Could he be?

He inched closer, again looking at me with those piercing eyes. We talked of Descartes, and Heisenberg, and life and beauty. Even closer. I thought, How can i get out of this situation? do i want to get out of this siuation? He laid down next to me. Our bodies squished together on the narrow leather of the couch. I wrapped my arms around myself. He hesitated to touch me. So we laid, avoiding each other, on that narrow white leather. He kissed my cheek. We talked. I stared at the rainbow colored Christmas lights strung around the ceiling.

I wondered What do I do now? If I move is that insulting? Should I go home? What am i doing? I didn't think I was attracted to him, but I could not be sure.

As he spoke, i realized for the umpteenth time, I was wrong. He was well-spoken, well-educated, talented, beautiful.
And i could tell, that was the beginning.

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