Nineteen

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Sam and I met at UVA where we both went to college. I told my mom that I met Sam Parker while attending a Jefferson Society meeting. I had even conjured up a fascinating debate on the Commerce Clause. I had to maintain the image of good behavior, especially now that I was out of the house and away from her watchful eye. But of course, that was not how we met...

Our love story started as most do these days – I was drunk at a party. My college roommate dragged me to an upper classmen party, because she was interested in a guy and needed someone to come with so she didn't look as desperate as she was. As soon as we got to the house, she ditched me, leaving me to look desperate myself. I decided to flirt my way into beer pong game and had a few lucky shots. I was drinking my nerves away and for some reason my hand steadied as my vision began to double. A crowd had gathered around the table – we had one cup left and I had the shot. I lined it up and let it soar. It plopped down in the red Solo cup with a splash. The crowd went wild and of course I tried to shrug it off as if I wasn't in utter shock by my natural ability to dominate useless drinking games.

And then, I saw him through the doorway in the kitchen. I stopped amid the celebration and the room began to move in slow motion. I focused solely on the mystery man watching me with a coy smile over the lip of his beer bottle. My window was open, commence flirtation. I made my way through the crowd toward the kitchen, where he was leaning up against the fridge. I had all the liquid courage I needed to go up to the tall, dark and handsome upper classmen who was obviously staring at me.

I pulled up right next to him and leaned against the same fridge, locking eyes with him. I didn't say anything though and neither did he. He merely shifted to one shoulder and squared toward me. And so we stayed like that for five minutes. No words, just looking each other over with long, deep savoring breaths. I'd bite my lip and he'd smile me over. And there we searched each other for any signs of a future.

I was trying my best smoldering temptress look, but I was pretty tipsy so he could see right through it. But something in the way he chuckled at me told me that it was the effort that counted in his book. His lips only broke to form one word.

"Hi..." it was a gentle greeting as if we were already a couple who hadn't seen each other for a long time.

"Hi yourself..."

"Nice shot."

"Well thank you... Amanda Graves." I introduced myself. We shook hands as a formality even though we had just undressed each other with our eyes.

"Sam Parker."

"Well hello Sam Parker. What brings a guy like you to a party like this?"

"I don't really know," he released a laugh and scanned the room, as if wondering the same thing himself.

"I think I know why..."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah..." I wet my lips and eyed him up and down again. He didn't know what to say so he just waited for me to speak. "Judging by your recent haircut, Brooks Brothers button down, pressed Dockers and firm handshake, you aren't a guy to typically let himself go. So, then the obvious question is why would you be unshaven? Your eyes lids are hanging low, because they are tired, but your posture tells me that your body isn't. My best guess is that you've been staring at a computer screen for the last week. Judging by the fact that we aren't in exam season yet you are writing papers. You aren't artistic enough to be into journalism, you aren't nerdy enough to be into History. My guess is you are in your first year of law school and you have been writing briefs nonstop and your friend staged an intervention to get you out of your apartment and to interact with other human beings. But you don't want to be here because you don't typically sloppy, drunk girls, which brings us to the real question... if that be the case then why were you eyeing me across the room." He was as surprised as I was. I had always been strangely observant and in tune with detail, but I thought it was fueled by imagination not deduction.

"You have a gift..." I curtsied and blushed. "I didn't know I was so easy to read. I was going for man of mystery." I laughed and lowered my eyes, when I brought them back up to him they locked on his.

"Oh, there's still plenty of mystery..."

Ten minutes later we were walking through the quad. I realized only after walking that I was tipsier than I thought. He didn't seem to mind, he had just ditched the party with me and there was an immediate chemistry between us. He probably thought he was getting lucky and he was probably right. He had a gentlemanly polish to him that only belonged to men of aspirations and I couldn't lie, it turned me on.

"Law student huh? Well, I'm going to have to call a witness to the stand! The prosecution calls Sam Parker to the stand..." Now I was just trying to be cute. "Do you swearrr to tellll the truuutthhh, the whole—" I tried to rattle it off, but it came out as one embarrassing slur. I gave up and finished it with a "So help you God?"

Sam raised his hand in the air and responded, "I do."

Then I proceeded to ask him a series of random questions that he answered with absolutely certainty.

"Name?"

"Sam Parker."

"Age?"

"23."

"Date of Birth?"

"April 10th."

"Sport Cars or Trucks."

"Trucks."

"Beach or Mountains?"

"Mountains."

"Bush or Clinton?"

"Neither."

"Football or Basketball?"

"Hockey."

"Diane Sawyer or Barbara Walters?"

"You kidding me? Diane Sawyer's my girl." I couldn't help but giggle.

"Where are you from?"

"Roanoke, Virginia."

"Why were you looking at me back there?"

"Because you're beautiful." My heart skipped a beat. His playful tone had dropped like an anvil. It was the voice of confidence and determination – the kind only a real man had. It told me that I was all he cared about in that moment and that I was safe and secure in his presence, like my heart was already his and he'd take care of it and protect it from the perilous world we lived in. It was an R&B song, it wasn't a Tinder date – it was something real. It was the irresistible allure people searched for everywhere and little girls dreamed up in the mirror while wearing princess costumes.

It was love.

I froze in my tracks and locked on him. He stopped a step ahead of me and then turned. He saw what I wanted – I wanted his lips on me. But he wasn't going to do that – not tonight, not when I was drunk and not when we had just met. No, we would have to earn that. He stared into my soul and in that moment told me that he was going to work on something way more important and meaningful than a random hook up. He was going to work on a relationship with me, if I would have him. Then he did something that surprised me – he held his hand out.

In the moment I was disappointed but this was the moment I would be thinking of through the next week. This was the moment that showed me that he wasn't just another guy. He wasn't going to take advantage of me. He was going to slow play it because what he felt was authentic and he wouldn't let himself disrespect or use me.

This was the moment I fell in love with him. I grasped his hand and together we walked into our long, complex, amazing, tragic future.

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