It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and Tim was in the middle of his weekly battle, convincing himself to wash his laundry.
Just as he was about to lose the fight and lie back down, a text popped up on his phone. It was from the guy in the cap, the upperclassman he'd met during departmental registration.
His name, or at least his nickname, was Tea-Man. Maybe he liked tea. Maybe he liked girls whose bodies were "tea." Tim didn't know or care.
[Tea-Man: Hey Tim. You forgot about the Mr. Fresher practice?]
[Tim: Practice?]
[Tea-Man: Oh right, I never added you to the group chat. Come to the department, we're starting now.]
Unnecessary stress, Tim groaned internally. Wasting a perfectly good Saturday and his transport fare on this?
Still, he dragged himself out of bed, threw on a hoodie, and made his way to campus.
---
On his way to the department, he spotted Promise, with some guy he didn't recognize. He considered pretending not to see her, but she waved and walked over.
"Hey, Tim! Where are you off to?"
"My department.Got something to attend to," he said, then nodded toward her companion.
"What are you doing here on a Saturday? And who's the new guy?"
"Just chilling.He's a friend, he invited me over."
"Alright,I'll be on my way then." He bid her a quick goodbye, noting the guy's impatient expression.
---
At the Science Complex, he texted Tea-Man.
[Tim: I'm here.]
[Tea-Man: Come to the Geology section. We're at the old field.]
He sighed again and went to the spot.
When he got there, he saw Tea-Man with his cap as always, talking to a light-skinned girl who looked like she belonged in a skincare commercial. A few other students were scattered around, mostly girls.
"Hey, you made it!" Tea-Man said, spotting him. "Alright, I guess that's everyone."
Everyone? Tim looked around. Why am I the only guy here?
He quickly pulled out his phone and texted his friend Messi from class.
[Tim: Yo, Messi. Come to Geology, the abandoned field.]
[Messi: Why?]
[Tim: Mr and Ms.Freshman practice. You've got the face and height for it.]
[Messi: Not buying it. What's going on?]
[Tim: Fine. I'm the only guy here. Help me out, man.]
Messi responded with a series of crying-laughing emojis before finally promising to come.
---
"Tim, phones away," Tea-Man called out. "Let me introduce you to Kristi, our Director of Socials. She'll be running your Mr. and Ms. Freshman training."
Kristi smiled, confident and effortlessly cool.
"Hey everyone,I'm Kristi. Welcome to the Chemistry major, and thank you for signing up for this contest," she said with a teasing smile. "Even if most of you are just here for the prizes."
Everyone laughed, except Tim.
As Kristi launched into an explanation, Tea-Man walked off to take a phone call.
"The contest is all about three things," Kristi continued. "Confidence, fashion, and talent."
'Great. The three things I don't have', Tim thought.
Kristi demonstrated a catwalk stride. "Ladies first, let's see your walk."
The girls took turns trying to mimic her model strut, some more successfully than others. Tim stood off to the side, silently praying he wouldn't be asked to do the same.
That's when Messi finally arrived just as Tea-Man finished his call.
Messi, with his cool hair, tall, slender frame, and fair skin, immediately caught the attention of every girl there. Standing next to him at 5'9" with his chocolate skin, Tim felt utterly invisible.
"Hey, you here for the contest too?" Tea-Man asked him.
Messi glanced at Tim, who gave him the please-save-me look.
"Yeah," Messi said smoothly. "I'd like to join."
"Nice. You can pay and register later," Tea-Man said. "Just give me your name and number after."
Messi walked over to Tim and fist-bumped him.
Kristi turned back to the group. "Alright, one more time from the top, for our new guy."
As the girls reset, Tim noticed them sneaking glances at Messi. He couldn't blame them, Messi had that easy charm he himself could never fake.
Still, at least now, he wasn't the only guy in this circus.
---
Two weeks later, on a Saturday night.
Tim stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, steam clinging to his skin.
On his way back to his room, he passed one of his neighbors, Esther, dark-skinned, soft-featured, a little chubby, but not someone who drew attention. She's the quiet type at least maybe for now.
"Hey," he greeted as he walked by.
"Hi," she replied, heading into the bathroom.
The building he stayed in was co-ed, four rooms sharing the same bathroom and toilet.
He shook his head.He hated this off-campus building. Hated sharing a bathroom with strangers. Hated the constant, low-grade awkwardness.
Back in his room, he dried off, tossed the towel over the door, pulled on his boxers, and collapsed on the bed.
Ding.
A notification lit up his phone.
It was from the Chemistry Freshman Group Chat. A chaos zone created by the department executives, and the only place Tim actually enjoyed interacting with classmates.
Recently, a few popular guys from his class had added him to a smaller, more exclusive group called "Avengers."
He opened the chat:
[Son: Alright, Avengers. How do we make the freshman party actually lit?]
[Marimou: How tho?]
[Son: No clue. That's why I texted y'all.]
[IQ: We pool our money. Buy some real alcohol. Get properly messed up.]
[Messi: ^^ This. And we can use it for truth or dare with the girls.]
[Marimou: I'm in for the drinks. The game sounds like a setup for failure.]
[Son: Bro, we drink, we vibe, we pull chicks. Simple.]
[Austin: We're literally freshmen, man. Chill.]
[Adrian: If we're too chill, the seniors will take all the girls.]
Tim stared at the screen for a second, then typed:
[Tim: Getting laid's a bonus. The real deal is just having fun before lectures start choking us.]
[IQ: So… everyone's contributing for the drinks, yeah?]
A chorus of digital affirmations followed.
He closed the chat, smiling faintly. He'd pay later. For now, his attention shifted to the person who'd been occupying most of his thoughts lately.
They'd gotten close over the past weeks even if it's just casual chats, friendly banter on campus. She wasn't cold anymore, in fact, she'd grown warm, playful even.
And Tim… had fallen hard.
He'd been debating for days whether to tell her. Tonight, his heart overruled his brain.
'Que Sera Sera', he told himself, and started typing.
His thumbs flew across the screen, pouring out every cliché, every ounce of overblown sentiment he possessed.
[Tim: Hey Abigail, ever since I met you, I've thought you were really beautiful. Your eyes and your smile… they get in my head sometimes.
I don't even know how to say this right, but you feel like one of those people God accidentally forgot to take back to heaven.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, I really like you. Like, really like you.
And if you don't mind… I'd love for you to be my girl.]
He hit send before his brain could veto his heart.
Seconds later, he saw the typing indicator appear. His heart started pounding, he started to panic.
He dropped the phone face-down on the bed and lay there, eyes on the ceiling.
'What the hell did I just do?' His mind racing through every possible outcome, all of them bad.
Five minutes passed, he heard no notification.
He picked up the phone again, debating whether to delete the message and pretend it never happened, telling her it was a mistake, then, the notification finally pinged.
[Abigail: Aww, thank you. What a nice speech]
Tim stared at the screen.
A "nice speech."