By ANNE HOLLIS
Staff Writer
 

So then you find someone who demonstrates all of these qualities, someone who smiles and looks interested in conversation, you take a risk. It isn't until six o'clock the next morning when your walking home alone in the dawning light of a New England morning that your senses kick in. You have hit the big time. These boys know what they're doing. And the interest in your thrilling mind has very little to do with it. Instead of the sixteen year old boys that giggle and blush at the word "sex", you have the twenty year olds that look you straight in the eye and tell you that you're beautiful. But you suck it up and climb into your own bed chalking it up to experience but secretly hoping that the next time the phone rings you'll answer it and find out it's him. And he's asking about your major again, and telling you how beautiful you are. When that doesn't happen, you shrug and think that it was fun while it lasted... all five hours, or so. So you go on with your life. You're registering for your classes and getting to know professors. You're signing up for extra-curriculars and writing letters home until one day about a week later, you get up late for brunch on Saturday and walk into Commons only to run into him. You draw in a breath and raise your head with a plastered smile on your face, ready to accept his apology for not calling. But when you look up you see him walking away. He didn't even say hello. You watch his friends pat him on the back and look back at you with that look, you know that look of pure disgust. You pretend that you didn't even see them in the first place while in your mind you're rationalizing the whole situation away. You're telling yourself that he really didn't see you, or maybe he was just too embarrassed to say anything to you with his friends there. Or maybe he has the same fear as you do to be seen out in his huge sweat pants and four-year-old T-shirt. You think about this as you walk back home again. The next time you see him, you're running to class a bit late and you can't even take the time to look up. All day you wonder if he would have said hi if you had let him.

You start to find your place and make some friends. One night while you're telling a story about your first week in college, someone says "Ohmygawd! You're the girl who hooked up with..." And then you realize that everyone knows. And you didn't tell them. You start to notice more and more of his friends... and you notice them noticing you. And they don't look too happy about it. You start to hear your name a bit more often in a few more places than it should be. And you know that you're supposed to be feeling at least a little bit of shame, but you aren't. So you smile and ignore it. It dies down just as all gossip does, and you even start to forget about it. You start to make jokes out of running into all of his friends at Commons, and laugh when you see him on "the-day-before-you-do-laundry-so-you're-in-your-rippedjeans-from-eighth-grade-ad-that-God-awful-sweatshirt-your-parentsgot-you-on-their-trip-to-Florida-last-summer" morning.

Then you start to date someone. Someone really sincere that really does care about you and your major. He may not hold the door open for you or tell you that you're beautiful, but he does really make you feel good. And you have a lot of fun with him. Until that night when you walk in and he's sitting there looking like his cat just died. And all he says is "I didn't know you hooked up with..." And you have to tell him the whole story, the walk of shame and all. Then you find out his best friend had already told him all about it. And that same best friend is one of the guys that was there patting him on the back at Commons that first Saturday morning, one of the guys that looked at you with "that look". And you wonder how he new everything anyway. And you wonder why he felt he had to tell your boyfriend. And he tells you it's because his best friend was worried that he was going to get hurt, that he thought that you were unacceptable. So you get mad and your boyfriend stands up to his friend and he apologizes to you.

But you're still the one that got the bad name while he gets patted on the back. And all he did was ask you about your major and tell you that you're beautiful. And you think you're supposed to feel just a little bit of shame, but you just don't. In fact, all you really want is to get patted on the back. After all, you were there too, weren't you?