Staring at Sabrina's number in my phone feels like holding a live grenade with the pin half-pulled. After lunch, we went our separate ways with that awkward "see you around" dance that could either mean "Let's hang out tomorrow" or "Goodbye forever, random cafeteria person." I'm not great at deciphering these social cues.
We did exchange numbers, which is objectively a win, but now what? I've literally never texted a girl unless it was about some group project where I was desperately trying to sound professional while secretly hoping they didn't think I was a complete loser. What am I supposed to say? "Hey, it's that awkward guy from lunch who rambled about Doctor Who and has mommy issues you definitely don't know about"?
Despite how refreshingly weird Sabrina was, or maybe because of it, this feels like scaling Everest without oxygen. I keep typing and deleting the same "Hey, it's Gabe" message over and over like a fucking lunatic.
"Yo, Earth to new guy! You with us?"
I snap my head up to find twenty pairs of eyes on me in this stuffy classroom where they've herded us freshmen for some mandatory "community building exercise." Kill me now.
"Sorry, yeah," I mutter, shoving my phone into my pocket before the orientation leader, some aggressively cheerful junior with too many teeth in her smile, can confiscate it.
"As I was saying," Teeth continues, "partner up with someone you haven't met yet and share three interesting facts about yourself!"
The room erupts into that special kind of chaos where everyone's desperately scanning for someone who doesn't look like a complete psychopath to pair with. I'm still frozen in place when a guy built like a linebacker slides into the desk next to mine.
"Sup, bro? Wanna team up?" He extends a meaty hand. "I'm Brad."
Brad is exactly what you'd get if you typed "college bro" into an AI image generator. Backwards baseball cap over dirty blonde hair, a muscle shirt that's doing overtime containing his biceps, and a smile that says he's probably chugged beer from a shoe at least once in his life.
"Gabe," I reply, shaking his hand and immediately regretting it when he nearly crushes my fingers.
"So, three things about me," Brad says, leaning back in his chair with the easy confidence of someone who's never had an anxious thought in his life. "First off, I just broke up with my girlfriend last month. She was super into being vegan and basically forced me to try it too." He chuckles, flexing his bicep unconsciously. "I was terrible at it, man. Kept sneaking cheeseburgers when she wasn't looking. When we split, first thing I did was hit up Five Guys."
I nod, not sure what to say. The concept of having a girlfriend, let alone one who dictates my diet, feels like science fiction.
"Second," Brad continues, counting on his fingers, "my all-time favorite movie is Top Gun: Maverick. Cinematic perfection, bro."
"It was pretty good," I agree, thinking of how Mom and I watched it on streaming a few months back. She'd commented on how handsome Tom Cruise still was, and I'd spent the rest of the movie trying not to think about it.
"And third," Brad says, lowering his voice like he's sharing classified information, "I recently got back into Magic: The Gathering. My roommate had some cards, and it kind of rekindled my middle school obsession."
My eyes widen. "Wait, you play Magic?" I say, suddenly feeling less like I'm talking to a different species.
Brad's face lights up. "Hell yeah, bro! Got a green stompy deck that's been crushing it lately."
"No way! I play, too!" I can't hide my excitement. "I've got this blue-black control deck I've been tweaking since high school."
Brad's expression suddenly shifts to panic. "Shit, dude, we're supposed to be telling facts about each other, not ourselves. Your turn, what are three things about me?"
"Oh, right." I scramble to think. "Uh, first thing about me is... I also play Magic the Gathering."
Brad laughs, a booming sound that draws glances from nearby groups. "That's one way to do it. What's your second fact?"
I feel something in my chest loosen as Brad waits for my next fact. Maybe this won't be so painful after all.
"Second thing," I say, running a hand through my hair, "I'm pretty much addicted to pizza. Like, I could probably eat it every day and never get tired of it. Pepperoni, mushroom, whatever."
Brad nods enthusiastically like I've just dropped some profound philosophical wisdom instead of admitting I like the most basic food on the planet. "Dude, same! Pizza is life! You try that place down on Mill Street yet? Orono House of Pizza? Their buffalo chicken pizza will change your life."
His genuine excitement over something so simple makes me smile. I wrack my brain for a third fact that doesn't involve my mother or my social anxiety.
"And third, uh..." I glance at the window air conditioning unit rattling away in the corner of the classroom. "I absolutely love air conditioning. Like, unreasonably so. I'd probably marry my AC unit if that was legal."
Brad bursts out laughing far harder than he should, slapping his knee with enough force to make the desk shake. "You're funny as hell, dude! I wasn't expecting that. Low key a legend in the making man."
"Thanks," I say, feeling my face heat up despite the blessed cool air. I'm not used to people finding me funny on purpose.
Brad leans in, his massive shoulder almost touching mine as the classroom starts to empty around us. "Yo, Gabe, what're you doing after this?"
I blink, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, nothing really. Just heading back to my house, I guess."
"Dude, no way." He shakes his head like I've just suggested jumping off a bridge. "Listen, we're having this kickback at my place tonight. Nothing crazy, just some of the brothers and cool people." His eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm. "You should totally come. You've got this weird vibe that I dig, man. Like, you're different from most of the freshmen I've met today."
My brain short-circuits. Is this actually happening? The human equivalent of a Golden Retriever wants me at his party? Me, the guy who spent most of high school eating lunch alone in the library?
"I..." I start, my mouth suddenly dry.
This is it, isn't it? The exact moment I've been waiting for. New school, new people, new Gabe. I could stay in my room tonight, overthinking that text to Sabrina while binging something on Netflix, or I could actually step into this new life I keep saying I want.
"Yeah," I hear myself say before I can chicken out. "Yeah, that sounds cool. I can go."
Brad's face splits into a grin so wide it's almost alarming. His hand clamps down on my shoulder with enough force to make my knees buckle slightly.
"Hell yeah, dude!" he booms, giving me a shake that rattles my entire nervous system. "That's what I'm talking about! Here," He pulls out his phone, opening up his contacts. "Put your number in. I'll text you the address. We usually get things going around nine."
I fumble with his phone, nearly dropping it twice before managing to input my information. My fingers feel numb like they belong to someone else.
"Sweet," Brad says, taking his phone back and immediately sending me a text that's just a beer emoji. "It's nothing fancy, just bring whatever you want to drink. We've got some communal stuff too."
"Cool, cool," I nod, trying to look like this is totally normal for me and not a seismic event in my social development.
Brad's eyes light up suddenly, like he just remembered something crucial. He leans in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial level that makes me feel like we're scheming something.
"Oh, and just so you know," he says with a nudge that nearly knocks me sideways, "there's definitely gonna be some cute girls there. My buddy Jake's bringing his study group, all nursing majors. If you want me to introduce you to anyone, just give me the signal. I'm a fucking legendary wingman, bro. Seriously, it's like my superpower."
"For sure, man," I manage to say, trying to sound casual while my brain short-circuits at the thought. "That'd be cool."
"That's what I'm talking about!" Brad claps me on the back again with enough force to make my teeth rattle. "First night of college, and we're already on the prowl! This is gonna be epic!"
It seems tonight will be a trial by fire.