I met him my first year of college. He started as a friend's friend, then slowly, he became *more*. Now, I wonder if he's a cruel joke or the best thing ever. This slow-burn college romance explores mixed-up feelings, misunderstandings, friendships, and heartbreak. It's about discovering new feelings and learning to live with them. The lecture hall hummed with a low thrum of nervous energy. It was the first week of classes, and the air crackled with the unspoken question: Do I belong here? I certainly didn't feel like I did. Everything was so… big. The campus stretched out like a sprawling city, the lecture halls were cavernous, and the sheer number of students milling about was overwhelming. I felt like a tiny, insignificant speck in a vast, academic universe, a world away from the familiar sights and sounds of home. I clutched my backpack straps a little tighter and tried to project an air of confidence I definitely didn’t possess. College was supposed to be this grand adventure, the start of something amazing, a chance to make my family proud, but so far, it mostly involved deciphering confusing campus maps, the constant worry of disappointing my family back home who had sacrificed so much to send me here, and trying not to spill coffee on my notes. I missed the warmth of my family, the easy camaraderie of my friends back home, the familiar comfort of my own culture. America was exciting, yes, but it was also… lonely. Then I saw him. He was sitting a few rows ahead and to the left, leaning back in his chair with an air of relaxed attentiveness that I immediately envied. He wasn't frantically scribbling notes like most of us; instead, he seemed to be absorbing the lecture, his brow furrowed slightly as he considered the professor’s points. He had dark hair that fell across his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes, which seemed to sparkle with amusement.