…After settling into my tiny dorm room that evening, I explored the building I would call “home” for the next ten months. In the basement were a foosball table, a pool table, and a TV. Impossible to be bored! My bedroom was simple, the kitchens simpler, yet the colored faces of the students I passed were all smiling. As I moseyed back to my room, I noticed a tall, lanky, dark haired boy opening the door to the room directly across from mine.
“Hey.” I tapped him on the shoulder before he could finish turning his key.
He spun around, evidently surprised.
“I’m Andrea. From New York. Your new neighbor,” I said pointing to my door.
“I’m just saying ‘hi’, since I’ll probably be seeing you a lot. Nice to meet you!” I said in an overly hyper manner.
Gosh. Why did I crumble into total awkwardness when speaking to a cute guy?
An amused grin spread across his fair face, and if hearts could melt, mine must have started to.
He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Konstantin. From Russia.”
I shook his hand (firm handshake) and smiled. His hazel eyes smiled back.
“What are you doing now, Andrea?”
“Oh, I just arrived. Literally, today. I don’t know.”
“Oh! Come on, I’ll show you around. I’ll take you to the Eiffel Tower! It’s breathtaking at night.”
This was supposed to be a new start, a new country, a new life. I would grasp every opportunity by the horns and live life with the attitude of my Italian professor, who would respond to any student’s bizarre, malformed sentences with: “Why not?”
Here was a Disney prince come to life asking if he could show me around the most romantic city in the world. Though shy, I was by no means a total idiot.
“Um, why not? Just give me a sec.”
I rushed to grab a light sweater, the whole time praying I wouldn’t wake up.
By: Andrea Schiralli