The bus stop at Atlantic Avenue. Maybe the one by St. Anthony’s Church, I don’t exactly remember. He got on, swiped his ID card, scanned for empty seats in the bus, walked over to where I was sitting, and took the seat next to mine (The Start of Something by Voxtrot came up on shuffle around this time). We were both wearing flannel. I don’t know about anyone else but I really do like imagining what goes on in peoples’ lives. At Redondo Avenue, he took out a text book and started reading. I took a glance. Something about the Supreme Court of the United States. By the time we both stepped off the bus at the CSULB library stop, I had accumulated facts (or rather, facts I’ve made up) about him. He has hemophilia. He could bleed to death from an injury a normal person might not even notice and oh, you don’t know how much that made me sad. Queen Victoria was a hemophiliac. I thought about biology and genetics but shunned those out. None of that science stuff at seven in the morning. He likes to eat dry cereal. He’s a Political Science major hoping to someday be a lawyer. He’ll go to the east coast for law school because for once, he’d like to experience all four distinct seasons. He’s really a romantic at heart and one day, The Girl by City and Colour will be played at his wedding.
I saw him twice on campus that Tuesday. We locked eyes (I crush way too easily) by the CBA building. The image of him in a court judge uniform popped up and I was smiling all the way to class. Never stop feeling.
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