Friday night. I’d just finished my classes for the week and was looking forward to getting off of campus and into my apartment for the weekend.

I was a senior at NYU, studying hard while trying to balance my free time. I was lucky to have my own apartment in the city that was off of campus. It was always nice to get away every once in while and have my own space to myself.

You and I were friends. We weren’t close, but we’d talked in class before and had even been assigned as partners on a few projects. It was odd, considering you were a freshmen, but you had been accepted on multiple scholarships with many credits, so some of your classes were with upperclassmen.

I couldn’t deny the fact that you were beautiful. I could never admit that either though. I’d always felt weird for feeling this way about you, a freshman, but I couldn’t help it at times.

As I made my way out of the library, I passed you at one of the studying tables, your nose practically buried in a textbook as you wrote down scribbles of notes, hardly legible. It was getting late, and I suddenly remembered our project we had due in the upcoming week. I decided to use this opportunity as an excuse to talk with you.

Although we weren’t exactly that close, I watched you smile as I approached your table, your eyes serving as clear evidence of your exhaustion from studying.

“What are you working on?” I asked softly with a smile, sitting down in the chair across the table from you.

I chuckled as you rolled your eyes, huffing under your breath. “Calculus.”

I frowned, shaking my head with a mock look of disgust as I laughed. I went quiet for a moment as you turned back down to your notebook, messily scribbling down different formulas.

“Have you thought any about what we should do for our Marketing presentation?” I asked with a small smile, hating to be a bother, but also needing the excuse to talk to you.

I watched as your eyes went wide, your pencil dropping to your notebook with a quiet thud.

Had you really forgotten about it?