Closer

Chapter 7 - First impressions.

As soon as I got out of the cab, I realized the cold was picking up. I rushed inside my building, quickly pressing the code on the front door of the four-story, ancient structure and pushing the heavy wooden door open. I decided to take the stairs up to the fourth floor instead of using the elevator. I opened my door quickly and slammed it shut behind me. I dropped my coat and took off my boots.

I immediately went to my mini kitchen area and pressed the button on my electric kettle. This was one of my favorite daily routines—drinking a hot cup of tea on a cold afternoon. I chose an Earl Grey tea bag and placed it in my favorite mug, the one with the letter L on it. The water began boiling within seconds, and I poured it over the tea bag. I gently cupped the mug with my hands to feel the warmth, brought it to my lips, and paused for a few moments—lost in thought—before taking a sip.

I closed my eyes and realized that now, there was nothing and no one stopping me from doing what I had wanted to do for the past few days: think about Michael. I could almost feel his presence in my apartment. In my living room, on top of the mantel, sat the small statue from South Padre Island that we had bought when we spent the day there.

Even though it had been last year, I could still remember the first time we met—it felt like something straight out of a fairy tale. I’ll never forget it, even if I wanted to—or if I had to, like Chloe kept telling me.

I had just arrived in Austin after a long flight from Paris and was exhausted. The university had kindly sent a student, Paola, to pick me up and guide me to the dorms where I’d be staying. Once I had placed my luggage in her car and sat in the passenger seat, she explained that she was there to help me and make my stay as enjoyable as possible. I was immediately comforted by her warm Texan welcome. She had a beautiful smile and that effortless charm that makes you feel at home.

It was already late, and I was hungry. Paola had brought me a bag of chips and a bottle of iced tea. It felt strange to eat just chips as a snack, but I was an international student in a new country—I had to give it a try. The chips turned out to be delicious, especially after such a long day.

Paola dropped me off at my dorms in Jester East and showed me to my room. It was more like a mini apartment that I shared with another student—a PhD student from Brazil named Mariana. She was already asleep when I arrived, so I thanked Paola and decided to briefly unpack. The apartment was very small, with a shared kitchen/living area, two bedrooms, and one bathroom. Mariana’s Brazilian cosmetics were all over the countertop. I took a moment to look at them and noticed most of them were French. Her perfume was from Dior—I thought she had good taste, even without having met her yet.

A quick shower later, I was ready for bed. I had been awake for over 24 hours. The next day was important—it was orientation day. I would receive my schedule, tour the campus, and meet other international students and freshmen.

I woke up before my alarm, thanks to the jet lag. I carefully chose my outfit—it was my first day, and I wanted to make a great impression. It was late August, and the scorching heat and humidity in Austin were already intense. I chose a black tank top, a pair of blue jeans, and my favorite leather sandals. I tied my hair into a ponytail and applied some red blush, a pale red lipstick, and mascara. I perched my sunglasses on top of my head and packed my planner, laptop, and wallet into my backpack. I also added a small white cardigan, knowing the blast of air conditioning inside buildings would be a shock.

A quick glance at my French phone showed that Anthony had texted me, wishing me good luck and asking me to call him as soon as I could. It better be urgent, I thought, because this is my time—to be a full-blown student and enjoy my orientation day. I felt slightly annoyed by the message and highly anxious about what campus life had in store.

Mariana didn’t wake up before I left. I didn’t knock on her door—I was still a stranger to her, and I didn’t want our first interaction to be a bad one. I was also starving; the small bag of chips from the night before hadn’t done much. Orientation was scheduled to start at 8 a.m. in the lobby, and it was already 7:30.

The lobby was already buzzing with students. What a view. I wondered if they were all international students like me or locals—or maybe a mix of both. I grabbed a campus map handed out by the orientation leaders and decided to find a cafeteria.

The campus was beautiful despite the intense heat, even this early in the morning. I walked with a small smile on my face, sunglasses on, hoping I looked like I belonged. I was an international student, but I hoped my outfit wouldn't give it away. I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet, so my accent hadn’t betrayed me.

I watched the students chatting about their schedules and summer plans until I came across a cafeteria sign above the doors of the Beaufort Jester Center. The cafeteria was predictably packed. I wasn’t sure how I’d pay—my only card was from France, and I hadn’t registered for the student dining service yet. I grabbed a tray and added some fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and toast. One by one, students ahead of me paid.

When it was my turn, I showed my French credit card to the cafeteria lady. She smiled and pointed to the machine. Easy. With the tray in hand, I realized there were hardly any available seats. I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do, completely anonymous among the crowd. I spotted a standing table by the entrance and ate my food quickly—I was starving.

I had also paid for a drink, so I headed toward the drink station. It was crowded, and suddenly—I saw him.

He was about thirty feet away, looking straight at me. All the noise around me seemed to fade. It felt as if the crowd parted, and we were now directly facing each other. I gently squeezed the straps of my backpack and felt myself blushing. I had never seen him before. I was sure of that. He was handsome, and he had a calming presence. He wore a dark blue shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of white leather sneakers. His hair was dark and short. No backpack—just a bunch of notepads and books in his arms. A pair of car keys hung from his front pocket. His smile grew slightly, and he nodded gently.

I smiled and waved awkwardly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Who was he? Why was he smiling at me in the middle of a busy cafeteria? He started walking toward me—when someone tapped my shoulder and asked if I could move. I apologized, pointed to the coffee machine, and headed there. I poured myself a cup of hot black coffee in a pristine white mug.

Too shy to look up, I wondered if the handsome stranger was still there—or if it had all been a product of my tired, jet-lagged mind.

“Hello there.”

I turned while holding my coffee. He was right in front of me, just six feet away. My heart fluttered.

“Hi,” I smiled.

“My name’s Michael. You’re not from here, are you? Or am I totally wrong?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.

I laughed. “Nope, you’re right. I’m from France. My name is Louise.” I noticed his eyes were brown and beautiful.

His face lit up with surprise. “From France? That’s far! What brings you here? And welcome to UT Austin—I hope you’ll like it here.”

How could I already feel so at ease talking to him? I knew better than to share personal information with strangers, but somehow, I trusted him.

I took a sip of coffee and noticed the large clock on the wall. Michael followed my gaze and said he needed to head to his building. I said I had to do the same. I didn’t want our meeting to end, but I couldn’t be late on day one.

Michael waved and disappeared into the crowd. I watched until I couldn’t see him anymore.

I set my mug down, walked toward the exit, and headed back to my dorm. Orientation was about to start. I couldn’t believe I had just met someone. I have a boyfriend in France, I reminded myself. This isn’t happening. Not yet.

The campus felt so vast—I doubted I’d ever run into Michael again. He didn’t even tell me what he was studying. Maybe it was better that way.

I shook my head and opened the door to the lobby of Jester Hall. Orientation was about to begin.

Get it together, Louise, I told myself.