Prim and Proper. First impressions are what mother said always matters. It was the first day of classes for her first year of college and Amber Wright was not going to mess this up. Her curls bobbed up and down in perfect sync, showing off her single studded earring as she stepped, nay, strutted through the doors of the psychology building. Besides the fact she was twenty minutes early and no one was in the hallway to gawk, they’ll all be jealous by the time class started.

The discussion room could not be more mismatched with Amber Wright’s indomitable presence. The desks and chairs were too small. The blackboard had actual chalk and erasers at it. The main desk by the chalkboard was nothing more than a hollow hunk of wood, and was that a ceiling tile on the floor? How much of my (mother’s) money is going into this dump? With a harumph, she attempted to delicately sit on a chair too small for her thighs and dusty enough that she would need a dry cleaner later that week.

She wallowed in that dusty, uncomfortable chair. Ten minutes before class, a boy entered the room. Somewhere between Oriental but Eastern European too, maybe some other hodge podge. Her second thought was how plainly he was dressed. It was uncouth. He was nowhere near her level. Objectively speaking, his attractiveness was much less than hers. But this boy, this strange mix of a boy was interesting. He captivated her intrigue. Her heart skipped. Is this what it feels like? Love at first sight? Her mother’s voice entered her head. Perhaps, my dear, but it’s impossible to describe. This boy was impossible to describe. He sat across the room from her.

Soon after, another person entered the room. This one, a girl. “Psychology 201 discussion? Karver?” She was dressed plainly, for competition; just a simple frilly fall dress designed for comfort before fashion. She was white though, so buying clothes to look pretty was easy for her. The boy appeared to be wholly uninterested but boys are boys Amber’s mother used to say. She could compete in more ways than one.

“That’s correct,” Amber said, careful not to rhyme. “My name’s Amber Wright, what’s yours.” She was raised to be courteous.

“Mary.” She extended her hand. “Are you a freshman too.”

“Yea. Nice to meet you!” That will end the conversation.

“Nice meeting you too. Oh.” Amber’s eyes caught the boy. She shrunk in demeanor. What was a typical nervous, casual poise became frightened and small. A puppy whimpering in a storm could be braver.

“Is something wrong?” Amber asked, hoping to her mother and the gods that she remembered her antiperspirant and perfume.

“N-no. I just f-felt a chill. I’ll sit somewhere now.” She plopped down right next to Amber and fixed her gaze on her phone.

The other students arrived almost all at once five minutes later. The entire time, the three of them present didn’t say a word. Mary calmed down once other students filled in and began doodling on her notebook. Amber spent the time dawdling with her fingers, waiting for one of them to say something. As other students filled in, a soft air of conversation began.

“Hello everyone!” A cheery, older person walked into the room. “Before anything, please form a circle, quickly.” In the chaos of moving desks, Amber wound up three desks away from that strange boy. She felt warmth bubble in her chest. She wanted to be closer.

“Alright, hi. Welcome to the Psych 201. I’m Jake Karver, your TA. I know this is all before the first lecture, but we’ll get out early.” He ran them through the standard discussion section spiel before giving the class an ice breaker. It was two truths and a lie; a classic. They were handed a five-by-eight notecards to put their names, the truths, and the lie.

The lie had always come easy to Amber. It was a simple lie. I shaved my head for a year in Middle school. Amber’s hair has never been longer than her shoulder blades. The natural curliness also made it believable. She was sure everyone in the room could imagine a middle school girl fed up with her kinky hair and wanting to shave it off to try and start over. No one in the room knew her too. It was a solid lie. To balance it out, however, she needed another truth that was a physical trait. She glanced up at the filling his card out.

“Alright, please finish up,” Jake announced.

“Ayyyee?!” Amber exclaimed. One guy next to her snickered. Damnit. It had been five minutes already. She scribbled what was immediately on her mind.

“Ok, notes in the hat.” From somewhere, Karver had generated a hat. How? Amber couldn’t imagine. “Alright. When I call your name, introduce yourself and say your two truths and a lie and we’ll try to guess. Let's start us off.” Amber crossed her fingers under her desk. Maybe they’ll run out of time. There were twenty minutes on the clock. “Amber Wright?!” She stood up slowly and proceeded to trip on her desk on the way. The class giggled.

“Umm, Hi.” She crossed her legs while standing, moving her ankle around in a circle. “My name’s Amber Wright and...” She paused. She glanced at the mixed boy who was staring right at her. His eyes weren’t intense but something different was there. A familiar warmth started from her armpits. She needed to get this over with and sit down.

“I have three cats at home. I shaved my head for a year in.. in middle school and..and I.. once sang with Polyphony-yee!” Her voice cracked and went up an octave. At least it hid her lie well.

A quiet settled. “Oh, this is good,” Jake said. “Anyone wanna guess?”

The mixed boy slowly raised his hand. Jake gave him a nod. “You didn’t shave your head for a year.” His voice was smooth, steady and deep. It was like the low warning growl of a feral animal without the guttural side. He didn’t necessarily sound confident, but controlled; defensive. Amber wondered if he sings.

“You got it,” she said, shocked. “How could you tell?”

“You have the voice of a singer and there are some animal hairs on your shirt.”

“Alright, would you like to go next?” The TA gestured towards the mixed boy. Amber sat down.

“Sure.” He stood up. “My name is Lionel Nole. I shorten it to Leo. I’ve been in the news. I sing. I was salutatorian.”

The nervous girl from before shakily rose her hand. “You were the valedictorian.”

-

She had to know. His name sounded alarms for Amber. She’d heard it before. None of the campus computers were able to search anything. Even the student directory had nothing on him. He was like a ghost; it’s like he’s not supposed to even exist.

She tried checking her phone on the way to class, but there was no wifi in the outside of any of the buildings. Mother will kill me if I go over on data. She weighed her options. It’s worthy quick check, but barely. Information. She was never good at phone typing. One manicured finger at a time. She pressed ‘period’ twice before hitting enter. It loaded...and loaded, and damnit, this was a college campus! Couldn’t the 4g be faster?

Classes were changing. A rush of students were moving around, and Amber’s eyes were glued to her phone like a huntress to her prey. It was only natural that someone stumbled into her. She dropped her phone., The poor boy that she ran into joined it.

“I’d say excuse me, but you’re already, oh.”

It was Lionel, of course.

People were staring already. “Grab my phone, I’ll help you up.” Lionel found her phone with his left hand, but he clearly winced lifting his right. “Oh no.” Amber knew she was built, but damn. She grabbed his left arm and lifted him up.

“Thanks. Sorry.” He said, avoiding her eyes. Amber swore that a hummingbird perusing some flowers stopped and stared after hearing him speak.

“It’s no problem! You’re Lionel, right? We’re in the same discussion section.”

“Leo….right. You are?”

“Amber. Is your hand okay? I can take notes for you today, maybe.” This was her chance. If she set it up right today, he’d be next to her everyday.

“You don’t have to do that, I can.” He winced in pain again, trying to grab a pen in his pocket.

Amber stole a saying from her mother. “Nonsense, darling. Let me handle it. You can sit and buy me coffee after.”

He didn’t look comfortable, but what freshman boy who just got knocked off his feet, sprained his wrist, and all because of a pretty girl looked like a stud? She checked her phone. The screen was broken, black and no longer functioning.

-

“So, you sing too?” Amber asked, sipping on her medium caramel macchiato, double caramel, half milk, half a sugar pack.

“Yes. I’m a bari.” He got a small dark roast, completely black and he didn’t even use one of those useless cardboard cup sleeves. He sipped on it scalding. Take me please.

“In a world full of tenors. Wonderful. You going to the All Sing Org Festival?”

“I don’t know. I’m not joining any groups, but my instructor might make me do something.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to tell me when, then. I’ll make sure my acapella group isn’t going on the same day.” Why didn’t he seem more interested?

“I, uh, I guess?”

Amber took that tiny bit of leeway. “Great! Wanna do this whenever we have class? We can compare notes or something.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve gotta go! Here, give me your phone number. When I get a new phone, you’ll be the first in it!”

Lionel’s eyes widened. “I don’t really….I’ll give you my email.” He took out his phone and gave her his school email.

-

Leo sat in the cafe chair stunned. That went terribly. Amber clearly didn’t get the message. She pranced off with his email in tow, smiling as if she won.

His hand still throbbed. At least he had something to feel this time. Any physical reminder of what he does to others was better than seeing them suffer alone. Everything was supposed to be different here. He wasn’t supposed to stand out at all.

He stood up and tried lifting his backpack with his sprained hand. The pain felt good. Is everything just going to be the same?