A cute girl sat beside me in class the other day. I don't remember specifics about her appearance, because I didn't want to stare, but the scent of her perfume stayed with me the rest of the night. I don't know what it's called, but I'll know it when I smell it.
She arrived a little late to class, and missed the teacher handing out the syllabuses (syllabi?), so I slid mine over a bit and angled it so she could read off it, too. Not that there was anything particularly interesting to read, and the teacher was going through the important bits anyway, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
Later in class, we were going over some equations, and the teacher was using examples from the book ($114 new). The girl hadn't purchased a copy of the textbook yet, so I placed mine in-between us so she could copy the problems.
I finished the problems before she did, and I glanced at her work out of the corner of my eye. She had interesting handwriting. Not extremely nice and neat, like most girls I've known. Not flowery or frilly, nor with the light touch I usually associate with women. It was actually kind of harsh, jagged and pointy, not cursive at all, but strong, straight lines. Curious.
Class ended, and everyone packed up their belongings and filed out the door, myself included. We have an assignment due on Monday, about fifty problems from the two sections we covered, which I shall be getting to presently. Halfway to my car, it dawned on me that the girl wouldn't be able to do the work because she didn't have a textbook yet. I wasn't sure if she was planning on getting one the next day from the campus bookstore, or if she was going to try to order one online, because the prices are way cheaper. I mention this because she had asked me how much the book was, and I told her, and she mentioned possibly looking online for it.
But if she was going to order it online, I thought, as I unlocked my car, it probably wouldn't arrive soon enough for her to have the homework done for Monday's class. I should have offered to let her borrow my book over the weekend. Maybe we could have met somewhere, a coffee shop or bookstore (aren't those one and the same nowadays?), and we could've done the work together, or she could have brought me the book back during Monday's class.
Unfortunately, I had these thoughts as I was pulling out of the parking lot. Before getting into my car, I turned and scanned the parking lot, hoping to see her, that it wasn't too late to make my offer, but she was no where in sight.
I kind of felt like an asshole on the way home. I had let her use my book during class. I knew she didn't have one of her own yet, but I neglected to take that next step, for whatever reason, and it gnawed at me the rest of the night. I hope she doesn't think me a jerk, though that would be better than her not giving any thought to me at all, right?
If she again chooses to sit beside me in class on Monday, I'll ask her if she got a book, if she was able to get the work done, and I'll apologize for not offering to let her use mine, that it hadn't occurred to me until I was in the parking lot.
Perhaps it's not too late to get her phone number.