The restaurant was located fairly close to the Fine Arts Building so we walked. The air was crisp and I pulled my sweater closer around my neck. Walking so near to Paul, I felt stupid with my hands hanging like limp fish at my sides so I grabbed each shoulder strap of my backpack and held on. Paul glanced over at me.“Too heavy? You want me to take it?”“No, it’s fine.”We kept walking, both of us quiet and avoiding each other’s eyes. Being in close proximity in a music room and being in close proximity in the open air were two different things. I felt anxious and awkward. It was a relief to enter McDonald’s and be in the middle of the afternoon crowd. Paul paid for two orders of french fries and two sodas.I slid into a booth and he joined me with our food.“You’re flying to California?” he asked.“It’s too far for me to drive alone.”“I’ll drive with you,” he offered, and I almost dropped my soda. When I looked into his eyes again, I saw he was joking.“In your dreams, mister,”
