(Another story that breaks the guy-gets-rejected-by-girl mold. Do enjoy. – SF)
I knew he was a player. We belonged to the same Jewish group on campus, and he would arrive at each monthly potluck with a new flavor on his arm. She was always petite. Always pretty. Secretly, I compared myself to these girls and wondered how I stacked up.
He’d given me a ride home once, and we stopped for a coffee that lasted two and a half hours. Conversation was effortless. He made me feel like there was no one else in the world but me. A crush was born. But although we both agreed we should “do this again sometime,” we somehow never did. I forgot about my crush and didn’t see him again for three months.
Then we hooked up. It was April. A mutual friend was celebrating her birthday at a dance club, and I was 10 minutes away from jetting, when he walks in. We danced. Closely. And then … we were kissing.