He walked on the left side of Dwight;
She frequented Chapel but kept to the right.
He had a childish sense of humour;
She stood at the height of a small minor.
He loved fleabag, anime, and maybe even a quick game of chess;
She stuck with Truffaut, Allen, and just a smidge of Wes.
They’ve never crossed paths.
What an interesting twist of fate,
That she was assigned a seat next to him,
In bio too, the one thing they both hate.
They scribbled away, him using his left and she using her right;
She popped a peek at his quiz.
How does that saying go? Out of mind, out of sight?
He turns his cheek, and gives her a look,
“We’re in college now, shouldn’t you go by the book?”
She looks down and nods,
“I don’t know, does that make me a crook?”
She slips him a note, folded neat and delicately,
“It’s my number” she says, “evidently”.
He picks up the note and tears it in two,
I guess he prefers goody-two-shoes, who would’ve knew?
She smiles and laughs, unsure what to say,
It was his idiocy that led her astray.
“I’m sorry for peeking” she whispers apologetically,
“But I think you’re swell” she adds, pathetically.
He looks in her eyes, deep and intently,
Then he fixes her hair, oh so gently.
A “your mom” joke looms on the tip of his tongue,
Perhaps they weren’t meant to be, since she’s so high strung.
What a meet cute that would’ve been,
Give it a couple months, they could’ve gone to Berlin.
But now we’re here.
and she just doesn’t feel right.
Tiffany Ng | firstname.lastname@example.org