Every day I anxiously wait for you to get to class. I can't wait for us smile at each other and say good morning. Some days, when you arrive only seconds before the lecture begins, I’m incredibly impatient. Instead of reading the Daily Cal. I anticipate your footsteps from behind and listen for your voice. Today is one of your late days. But, I don’t mind, because after a month of desperately desiring to ask you out, today I’m going to. Encourage me, because letting you know I like you seems as risky to me as skydiving into the sea.

My roommate and her boyfriend were friends for four months before their chemistries clicked. They went to movies and meals and often got together with mutual friends. They alternated paying the dinner check.” He was like a girlfriend,” my roommate once laugh-blushing. Men and women relax and get to know each other more easily through such friendships. Another friend of mine believes that casual dating is improving people’s social lives. When she wants to let a guy know she is interested, she’ll say, “Hey, let’s go get a yogurt.”

John whipped out his wallet on our first date before I could suggest we go Dutch. During our after-dinner stroll he told me he was interested in dating me on a steady basis. After I explained I was more interested in a friendship, he told me he would have understood has I paid for my dinner. “I’ve practically stopped treating women on dates,” he said defensively. “It’s safer and more comfortable when we each pay for ourselves.” John has assumed that because I graciously accepted his treat, I was in love. He was mad at himself for treating me, and I regretted allowing him to.

Larry, on the other hand, blushed when I offered to pay for my meal on our first date. I unzipped my purse and flung out my wallet, and he looked at me as if I had addressed him in a foreign language. Hesitant, I asked politely, “How much do I owe you?” Larry muttered, “Uh, uh, you really don’t owe me anything, but if you insist…”

Insist, I though, I only offered. To Larry, my gesture was a suggestion of rejection.

Sliding into his desk, he taps my shoulder and says, “Hi, Laura, what’s up?”

“Good morning,” I answer with nervous chills, “Hey, how would you like to have lunch after class on Friday?”

“You mean after the midterm?” he says encouragingly. “I’d love to go to lunch with you.”

“We have a date.” I smile.