Scenes From the City: A Knitting in the City Wintertime Surprise by Penny Reid Page A

enormous without him in it. I reminded myself that he belonged to someone else. I would never show any sign of outward interest, but I would look. I would admire.
    And I would do my very best not to covet.
    ***
    I had a date! In February…on Valentine’s Day.
    His idea.
    His name was Mark, but I’d nicknamed him ‘Legs’ because he had the nicest legs, and, despite the fact that it was snowing outside, he always wore basketball shorts. I wasn’t complaining or questioning the sanity of this because it meant I got to look at his legs during class. Though I could have nicknamed him ‘Smiles’ or ‘Blue Eyes’ or “Blondie’ because he had a magnificent smile and the loveliest blue eyes and the prettiest blond hair.
    We met in art history class shortly after Fern had made me realize that I had a bad habit of not smiling or talking to people. I stopped watching people and started meeting people’s gazes, smiling at them. It made a huge difference.
    Legs sat two seats down from mine in the giant lecture hall. On my first day back in class after Fern’s grand tour of the dorms, I smiled at him. He smiled at me, then moved two seats closer to me, and introduced himself.
    Mark was eighteen, a farmer’s son, and the first person in his family to go to college. He wanted to be a civil engineer. He was really very good looking and friendly and sweet. He asked me if I’d like to join his art history study group—which I did—and then asked later in the week if I wanted to grab coffee—which I did.
    Over coffee he asked me out. I said yes. He set the date, and we made plans.
    Mark gave me a little excited flutter in my stomach, nothing like the overwhelming magnetic pull I’d experienced with Greg, but I was looking forward to the date. I wasn’t looking for anything long term. I wanted to experience something new.
    Shortly after Mark asked me out but before our date, I was asked out for coffee by a guy I’d smiled at in my P-chem class. His name was Jefferson, and he was adorable. I said yes but then later questioned this decision since I had a date scheduled with Mark.
    This was also a new experience. Therefore, I sought out Fern to ask her what I should do. I tried several rooms of the girls I’d met and become friendly with over the last few weeks ; one of them told me to try Greg’s room as Fern and Greg had political science together and typically studied after class.
    My first instinct was to wait for Fern in my suite area rather than go to Greg’s room. Just the thought of going to Greg’s room gave me a wild feeling, hot and flushed, anxious. The last time I’d spent time with him, after the great kitchen debate, he’d left my room suddenly with a hurried and fictional excuse. I hadn’t spoken to him since…
    I finally shook myself out of my reticence.
    He was just a boy. He was harmless. He had a girlfriend who was gorgeous and sociable. I would calibrate my smiles and interactions to friendship or acquaintance level. No big deal.
    Armed with my altruistic pragmatism, I marched to Greg’s. His suite was on the opposite end of the hall from mine, thirty doors separating us. This realization made me feel better for some reason.
    I was prepared to knock; but the suite door was open, and I heard Fern’s voice as I approached. I decided I’d poke my head around the corner, interrupt briefly, ask Fern to come find me when she was finished, and then leave.
    I poked my head around the corner and, thankfully, found Fern facing the door. Greg’s back was to me. She looked up instantly and gave me a smile.
      “Hey, Fiona. You’re out and about.”
    “Yes, I don’t want to interrupt. Just real fast, when you’re finished can you give me a few minutes? I need your advice.”
    Greg had turned in his seat, and I could feel his eyes on me; so I glanced down at him and gave him a head nod and tight smile of acknowledgement.
    “What kind of advice?” he asked, his tone as dry as ever.
    “Just girl