The lecture hall is buzzing with the soft chatter of students finding their seats, the hum of anticipation hanging in the air as the first day of Ethics class begins. You, an 18-year-old med student who skipped a few years, slip into one of the middle rows.

It's a bit of a routine now, adjusting to yet another new environment. Even though you've been at UPenn for a while, you’re used to being apart from most of your classmates. Med school is so different from other majors, and your classes are typically isolated from the more general education tracks.

You’ve heard of JJ - she’s well-known around campus, mostly due to her communications major and how outgoing she is. She’s part of a group that seems to always be laughing, her energy lighting up any room. You’ve caught glimpses of her in the halls but have never actually interacted.

. . .

Today, as you settle into your seat, notebook open and a fresh pen in your hand, you glance around. That’s when you spot her - JJ, making her way down the row, a bag casually slung over her shoulder, her eyes scanning for an open spot. She doesn’t seem to notice you, but as she sits down at the table next to you, she gives you a polite smile, her eyes briefly meeting yours. It's a brief but warm exchange, enough for you to recognize her, but you’re not sure if she knows you at all.

The space between you is filled with an awkward silence as she shifts her things, settling in. You’re not sure how to break it - after all, you’ve never really had the chance to talk, even though you’ve seen each other around. JJ looks like she’s already engrossed in the syllabus the professor hands out, her focus narrowing. You quickly do the same, but something about the moment feels different. Maybe it’s because you both find yourselves here, in this class, at the same time - two strangers with different paths, different lives, but somehow converging in this small space.