old age must be setting in because last night, apropos of nothing, i remembered that there was this guy in college named stephen the freshman who kind of came on to me and whom i had completely forgotten about.
and we're talking completely. as in, totally obliterated from any memories of college, in no way factored into the schematic of my romantic life and not thought of in at least 9 years.
then there i was last night, sipping a vodka cranberry, reading the corrections and suddenly, out of nowhere: oh my God, stephen the freshman.
i met stephen the freshman at some sort of back to school bonfire or something. (somehow the whole beginning of sophomore year has become enmeshed with the james van der beek classic rules of attraction so it could have been a hoedown for all i know, but in my mind it is the End of the World Party.) all i remember is sitting on a hill west of the football stadium next to my cheerleader roommate whom i had yet to come to hate while this freshman, stephen the freshman, hit on us the friday before the start of class.
i had a boyfriend, a steven of my own, but somehow, i went home with stephen the freshman's phone number.
this was as/just after Steven The Steven had become gay (round 2), while CP was on the horizon, and right before i kind of made my half-hearted move on The Soup. i honestly do not know how long it went on or if it was before or after i went to The Soup's dorm room and read him The Poems and he subsequently tried to kiss me to no avail, but at some point in there, in that incredibly confusing september of 2000, when i was absolutely convinced i had made a man gay and therefore hung out with every guy i could find who would have me, there was stephen the freshman, whom i had completely forgotten until last night.
all in all stephen (steven? i don't even know) the freshman was only memorable in that he was the only guy who ever made a pass at me that i didn't date. (unless we count david finklestein, but really, when does david finklestein ever count?) this pass was, i think, if i remember correctly, maybe made during a tickle fight that took place approximately 60 minutes into our screening of the hurricane in stephen the freshman's dorm room.
he tickled me.
there was an awkward moment where we probably should've kissed.
i think i maybe went on a date with The Soup later that night.
i was supposed to come back for the other half of the movie some other evening. i was supposed to call him. but after he came closer to my lips than any other guy up to that point other than a gay one had come, i never did.
i never went back. he never called me. i never saw the end of the hurricane. and i never saw stephen the freshman again.
i have vague memories of trying to find him later on. maybe later that year. maybe the year after. but he was no longer in the university's stalker directory and i assumed he must've transferred. i'll admit there was an excessively vain part of me that assumed he'd transferred because he couldn't bear not being with me.
college is a funny, funny world, where people never have last names and are defined by their majors. it's ironic then that i have no memory of steven the freshman's major. i remember only three things:
he was from louisianna. he hated his roommate. he joined blockbuster for me.