It's peak cherry blossom season. Petals are falling from the trees as I cut through the quad. I'm walking a little faster than usual. The psychology class I'm shopping starts in a few minutes, and I don't want to be late on the first day. I've never been in the psychology building before. The lecture hall is massive, lined with ten rows of seats that are filling up fast. I manage to find a spot in the middle as the professor writes something on the chalkboard. I don't have the textbook yet, so I'm just listening as he goes over the syllabus for the course.

I'm not really paying attention though. I keep glancing at my phone, reading the conversation from last night. I still can't believe someone else has Sam's number. And I don't even know his name. For some reason, I can't stop thinking about him. I wonder what he looks like. Part of me wants to send him another text. Ask him how his day is going or something.

But that would be weird, right? I mean, we don't even know each other. And it's not like we're friends or something. I should probably just forget about it. *** I turn on my side, checking my phone again. I was hoping to get another text from him. The guy with Sam's phone number. Maybe I should change the contact name to something else, since it doesn't belong to Sam anymore. I wish I knew his name so I could look him up.

I want to know everything about him. What color is his hair? Does he have siblings? A dog? My finger hovers over the keyboard as I think of something to write. I know I should wait until tomorrow. But I can't help myself. I send him another message.