Moritz is a romantic. His parents' love story had taught him to be one.

It was his father's first day studying in Germany when he accidentally bumped into a woman, sending both tumbling on the grass. She had laughed, a loud and hearty sound, while he apologized profusely. It took a minute for him to notice how beautiful she was: the curly auburn hair, the twinkling green eyes, the toothy smile and the big rosy lips that frame it. He fell hard and fast, and just knew she was the one.

But Moritz’ mom had been unconvinced.

She admitted the Spaniard was handsome, what with his dark skin, big brown eyes, athletic physique and square chin, but as soon as he declared his love for her, she just laughed.

“Love at first sight is the illusion of fools who don’t know better.” she said, leaving him with raised brow and a smile.

“If I can prove to you my love is true, will you date me?” he had shouted.

He just heard her laugh as she walked away.

From then on, the man had tried his best to woo her: striking conversation, sharing seats in class, waiting for her after, sending flowers, notes, mixtapes, chocolates, poems; all to no avail.

“Gifts prove nothing, if they can be for anyone,” she said. “Love is intimacy: knowledge and understanding of the other. Prove to me that you know me, and I am yours.”

Over the months it had been fun seeing him try to woo her, but she didn’t think any man actually paid attention to her, not really. He was like the others: they only wanted her body. She wanted more, someone that paid attention.

Which is when the exam came into play.

Moritz’ mom was a perfectionist, she strived to excel at all she did: triumph was the only language she spoke. So, when she failed an exam (and hence a class) for the first time ever, she did not take it well.

As soon as she had seen her grade, she ran from campus, away from everything and into her happy place: a park tucked away near her home. She used to go there with her sister when they were kids, her mom would bring them sweets and then push their swings. She was happy there.

She was crying on the swings when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Moritz’ father had come with a bag and a note. He handed it over, smiled, patted her on the back and walked away.

She was confused. How had he found her? Why would he just leave like that?

Inside the bag she found a little box and, within it, a familiar scent that warmed her heart: pierogi! Her grandmother used to make them whenever she was sad, it was the recipe she had learned. Eating them always felt like being home. She loved them.

“You always smile best when you eat these. Breathe, all will work out,” read the note.

The next day, his parents started dating.

“Love is paying attention and never giving up,” his father said after telling the story. “Remember: when your gut tells you something is good for you, you fight for it and just try your best to make it work.”

Moritz’ parents had been together for almost 35 years now so, he took his father’s word for it!

He grew up loving the idea of devoting himself to someone just as intensely as his parents devoted themselves to one another. He wanted his own love story.

Moritz had waited for true love for a long while, but it never found its way to him. He kept his heart open though: boys, girls and people were both or neither sought his attention, and he was happy to oblige! 

His relationships had all been wonderful, he could speak fondly of them... but the spark he sought was never there. 

He wanted what his father had described: to feel it was right, even when you couldn’t be certain at all. He wanted to feel intensely enough for someone so that he would always would like to try and make all work, despite the uncertainty.

And then a guy literally fell on his arms and made his heart skip a beat.

Chestnut skin, long wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, long nose, puckered lips, big beard, a pointed chin and such long limbs. He was handsome, but that wasn't what had caught his eye. When he had thanked him for catching him: his smile had been so tender and his hands almost burned where they'd touched his arm. Moritz lost it. As the guy walked away he thought, "I need to find him again."

And found him, he had.

Moritz knew himself handsome. His parents had good genes and he had played sports his whole life. He was confident in his looks to win over almost anyone; but looks would have no effect if the guy were straight. So, when he covered the door and noticed his newfound crush’s eyes lingering a bit too long or wandering around, Moritz almost sang praises to the gods, old and new: he had a shot! Now he only had to ease himself in, make sure to note the was not the total fuckboy he appeared to be and, maybe, Alex would date him.

It was a shame that the guy listening to Moritz’ ambition right now, was not at all prepared for such an entanglement. Or amused by it.

Alex was currently scowling and running towards the Academics building, hoping by some grace of the gods (any of them, he didn’t care, he’d convert if any helped) he could change classes.

Since they were on the first week of the semester, he could still change classes as long as they had the same amount of credits. Or just drop out from any. Political Marketing be damned! The course might just open on the fall semester but he was willing to put it on hold if he could walk away from the horny German (“Who gets a crush at first sight from someone falling into their arms? WHO?” he thought), and to stop me from mentioning all the unspeakable things said German wanted to do to him.

It did not help that Alex was a little into it.

“I am NOT into it!” he yells... in the middle of a crowded hallway. He is angry enough to ignore the stares and just carry on to the building. He doesn't care if he gets scolded, right now he is pure emotion and determination. 

***

Why had he ever decided to do two careers at once. He had known the answer from the secretary before he had even asked; as soon as Francis had seen him approach the Communications desk her eyes had gone into a big “oh no”. He couldn’t blame her, students with two careers were a notorious nightmare to accommodate in the schedules.

“Alex, professor Lopez only opens TWO groups, and the other one clashes with your Mexican Literature class,” Francis was always kind to him, but he understood the edge of exasperation in her voice, after all, he had done his schedule in advance PRECISELY because he knew how hard it was for it to not be a mess. “If you change classes you might be able to take one of those you were saving for the Sufficiency Titles, but you’d still have to take Political Marketing while you do your thesis next year, and you know what professor Lopez thinks of that... also, we would have to contact the Literature Department if you do any changes, kid”.

Alex knew speaking with the Literature Department would be a nightmare. They were always extremely nice, but the classes were so small that many just couldn't even open when they were supposed to, which is why he had gone on exchange to Spain to revalidate as many as possible. He’d been lucky this year that all the groups he wanted had been open, but moving his schedule would just force his plans into a chaotic mess, it might even force him to stay in college another year.

All because he wanted to escape a boy, and the ridiculous voice in his head. (Rude).

He felt a hand on his own. Francis was staring at him, her eyes were warm as ever.

“Alex, kiddo, you have never asked for a class change unless it had to be closed. Are you sure this is necessary?” she asks. “I will do my best to speak with the Literature Department, and the Academic Director, but I need to know if this is really necessary, dear.”

He wanted to cry right then and there.

Francis was the perfect secretary, some of the Communications students even said she was the actual Academic Director. She was savvy, always ready to help, and with a smile that could thaw anyone’s heart; she never failed, even if she was tired or a little exasperated. It felt silly to mess her whole day up… just for a boy.

“No, Francis, I’m ok. I think I can soldier on, it was just... not my favorite hour to take it, haha,” he’d make do.

“Well, it’s good to know. You had me scared, this had been the easiest year to set up your schedule yet, dearest, and I was ready for another mess!” she said. “And I get the hour might be tough, late classes always are, but I heard there is a hunk in your group! A fine piece of imported man, the girls said this morning, so at least you have that to soften the blow, right?”

“Ah, yeah... hahaha, sure.”

***

He was waiting for Eva at the Sombreado. That is how they called the bottom floor that connected the two class buildings and the rest of the university. The thing had a Starbucks right in the middle of it, and was surrounded by tables, printing kiosks for students on a rush, a computer lab, a bank, and a gazebo where people tended go drink their coffee at. It was always bustling, even more so than the Community Center, and that was where most extracurriculars and the cafeteria were. The Sombreado was the heart of the college, every student or teacher had to pass by it at some point, you could basically ignore the rest of the Uni if you wanted to, but not the Sombreado.

As soon as he had gone out of the Communications Department he’d taken the stairs down, walked pass the gazebo, entered the Starbucks, gotten the sweetest drink he could think of (frozen caramel macchiato with extra whip, caramel drizzle and chocolate sprinkles… diabetes in a cup!) and texted Eva to come.

He wanted to tell her everything he had heard from me so far, and ask her opinion on what to do about Moritz. He'd usually call Angela. She was his actual best friend, but she already had a lot on her plate and this would be... hard to explain. Eva knew more now.

Anyone would say it was simple: Moritz was already flirting, and he had a crush. Alex could just follow along, get whatever he could from him and drop him like a hot potato. But he didn’t like the thought of it, it felt cruel to the guy! 

The narration had established the guy was looking for love, and that was something Alex couldn’t provide. He didn’t believe in love, much less in love at first sight, and he didn’t want to burst the guy’s bubble. Moritz seemed sweet, maybe too sweet, and very set on them being endgame even though they had JUST met.

At least my narration had given Alex a better insight on what to expect from the German.

“You didn’t have to go into detail about his daydreaming before the backstory, though,” Alex mutters.

“Talking to your best friend, love?”

Eva was sitting next to him. She seemed a bit flushed, like she had come running.

“Something like that,” he turns to her. “He said you ran here, is that true?”

“More or less, it is late and my phone ran out of battery. I thought you might have left!”

“Nah, Carlos said you’d both rehearse, so I assumed you’d be a while.”

“Fair enough,” she says. “So, met your German, huh?”

Alex sighs and tells her every detail. He feels ridiculous, it is all moving so fast! Retelling the whole thing makes it seem like he is describing his first interaction with a fledgling crush. He thought that, for anyone else, what was happening to him would be a dream; but for him it was a cosmic joke. The narration had picked the man, threw him his way on one of his busiest semesters, left him without his closest friend to talk to, and instead had left him with the biggest fan of romance as emotional support!

He really hoped Eva would understand his side, why he should run from the guy.

“You are just bitching.”

But her response made it clear, they weren’t on the same page.

“Alex, you told me your story is clearly a love story, and it just showed you a HOT love interest that, despite the first impression, wants to prove he is NOT a fuckboy,” Eva took his hands. “If the story will build up to you interacting with this guy, why avoid it? Just go head on and leave the chapter behind!”

“Eva, it is not that simple, I don’t want to use the guy,” he argues. “He is clearly interested and looking for something serious and… I…”

“Alex, it is that simple, if you are not interested, just tell him so and see how he responds,” she says. “Love, if he insists, well just go to bed with him, prove you don’t want anything and move ON. He is an exchange student, most come to the uni on the HUNT, and you know this. Give him what he wants, get some of your own, and just let it slide… it doesn’t have to be a love story!”

“That is the thing, Eva! He is a sweet guy… or at least… he appears to be? Never mind. The thing is he is a good guy looking for love and the narration already said he is not my love. So why should I give someone I won’t even have a future with a chance? Why should I give him wings if… I don’t believe in love anyway and… we know I won’t fall for him or have a future with him.”

Eva lets go of his hands and stares into the distance and allows their silence to stretch. It makes Alex restless.

“By that logic you shouldn’t have dated anyone when I met you. Or at any time, love.”

“That was different, I was experimenting or acting up against the narrator. I… at the time I thought I could fall in love with someone despite him not saying so,” he said.

“And did you?”

“No. It got close. I think. But it was always in the back of my head, ‘he was not the one he was looking for’,” he says, making his best impression of me. “This guy seems nice. I don’t wanna rope him into…”

“Goey, love, he's already roped… and you are clearly interested,” she says with a smile. “Like, you already fell for the bait: when you described him you were clearly into him. He has got you hooked, and his little sob backstory only got you reeling.”

He couldn't respond. Was he so easy to read or was the situation so textbook?

“Look love, I am not Angela. I can’t coddle you, I can only tell you what I see with all the info I have,” she gets up and cups his face in her hands. “If you are uncomfortable, tell the guy so. If he persists, speak to him or let yourself be carried by the current. If this is a story it will keep playing no matter how you try to stall it. The best you can do for yourself is take control of it, at least you’ll know where you are headed.”

“What if I fuck up? What if… I hurt the guy?”

“Are YOU kidding me?!” she smacks him on the head. “Goey, people get hurt! It is a hazard of having relationships with others, it doesn’t mean we abstain ourselves from having them. Yes, he is not your ‘true love’ or whatever but maybe you get something out of this, a lesson for when you get there! And you are clearly enjoying the attention; for once you are not the one chasing after a man or initiating the conversation. Just… let yourself go. Take control, you idiot!”

Eva is right. Alex knows it. He still doesn't know if he could go through with it though. Even if he did like to be chased for once, bewildering as it was.