I was a freshman when I met him. Or as the seniors called us, freshmeat. I was sitting in the hallway at school talking to a teacher about our Spanish assignment. I was having a hard time grasping the subject. She was trying to explain to me about articles. I was only pretending to understand. A guy, who I knew only as a senior, walked up to my teacher and started speaking in that crazy language. I realized they were talking about me when he looked at me and smiled. I really wished I could understand them. At a closer look, he was kind of cute. He was tall with dark skin and dark eyes. The kind you get lost in if you look into them for to long. He stopped talking and looked at me. He looked at me longer than he should have. He looked at me with passion in his eyes. I thought about that look for days. Then I discovered his name. It was Cole.
On Friday, I stayed after class to talk to my teacher about some extra help. I told her that I felt totally lost in class. She seemed to understand. She started to ask me if I thought it was best to drop the class and try again next year, then Cole walked in. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, because he grinned when he looked down and saw me sitting on a desk in the front row. I managed a smile. They started talking in Spanish, of course. I just watched their facial expressions for any clues to what they were talking about. I though I heard something about eggs, but probably not. After a few minutes of talking, my teacher stopped and told me to meet my new tutor in Spanish, Cole. He looked at me, picked up his book bag, and told me to meet him outside the dining hall in ten minutes.
I quickly left the building and went to the dining hall. Most of the campus was deserted. I guess a lot of kids are smart enough to go home on a Friday afternoon. I found Cole sitting at the first table on the patio. I dropped my bag and sat down across from him. He asked how old I was. I told him I was just a Freshman.
After two weeks of studying everyday after school, I knew I didn’t need a tutor anymore. I think he knew it, too. But, for some reason, he kept helping me. My grades were improving and we became closer. We started talking on the phone and hanging out after school, without studying. After six weeks, our friendship was closer than ever. People started rumors that there was something going on. We denied it, but we both knew there was something. Something that was more than just friendship.
On the last day before we got out for Christmas break, we made plans to hang out. We met at our usual spot, underneath an oak tree at the far side of campus. Before I could say anything, he kissed me. It was more than just a kiss, we both knew it was wrong. But, we both wanted it. When I pulled away, he said, “I like you.” I replied, “I like you, too, but, I’m just a freshman. We can never be together.”