Econ is my least favorite subject this semester, but it’s also the class I look forward to most, thanks to Alex Rodriquez from South Central Los Angeles. I’ve never seen such a beautiful man in person. Even more stunning than Bryce. He is both soft and hard somehow, like he would cry with you during movies but also build a house with his bare hands. It’s a combination I rarely see in men that I find really attractive.

Now that winter has released its death-hold on the campus, and spring has announced her arrival with sunshine, chirping birds, and cherry blossoms, I feel especially open to new romantic possibilities. It’s late March, so my window for finding a boyfriend is winding down. I’ve got to be more focused and deliberate. I set my sights clearly on Alex, a bronzed Latino god from the City of Angels.

The first time I saw him, I sat with my mouth open for several seconds until I noticed someone watching and judging me. I pretend to take notes while continuing to glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. How is such beauty possible? Is the Joker trying to trap me again through this mesmerizing mirage? I feel like Blanche from The Golden Girls, who was always lusting after some guy. I spray myself with imaginary mist and wipe the phantom sweat from my forehead every time he passes.

I don’t know what comes over me when I see him sitting alone on a bench three days after my Titanic meltdown. I don’t really believe I have a chance with him, yet all of my recent inner work has intensified my longing for a connection. I act without thinking. I prance over to him. I have discovered that love makes me prance. I prepare to seduce him with my charms when I feel someone forcefully pull me away. I spin around in shock, dropping my notebook and a six-dollar smoothie I just bought from the cafeteria.

“Yoda! Sorry, Dean Harrison! What are you doing behind me like a creepy crawler? Are you following me?”

“I saw you and was coming to say hi. I see you are spying on that handsome fellow over there. Before you give him your all, make sure he’s the right one, OK? Nothing disrupts the call like the wrong man.”

“This is not helpful at all, you know.”

“I know.” She smiles cunningly. “All right, I’ll leave you to your spy work.”

Her cautioning does not dissuade me. I am determined. I take a deep breath and prance back over to him. I stand behind his bench for several seconds like a serial killer.

“Hey, Alex,” I say awkwardly.

He turns, shocked, looking up at me. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I just got here. Saw you sitting and thought I would come over.”

I walk around the bench and sit.

“Lovely day today, huh?”