Changes

Changes by: Henny Daniels
Azarae
I can’t wait to marry the man I love! I mean, I know we’re only freshman in college, and our lives are just beginning; but there is nothing I can think of more right now. Which, granted, is an issue due to my grades looking kind of crazy. To keep my scholarship, I am required to maintain a 3.5 GPA each semester; currently I stand at a measly 2.7 with only 3 weeks to go.
We attend the best HBCU in the world, FAMU, so I really cant afford to be slipping up so early. Fortunately, I’ve committed to extra study groups and one-on-one sessions with a couple professors; I think (hope and pray) I’ll be back on track in time.
Anyway, back to the love of my life, Darius! We’ve only known each other now for a few months; I met him during summer school and was instantly hooked. He stands at about six feet tall with an athletic frame, butterscotch skin, big brown eyes and (my favorite) the cutest dimples you’ve ever seen!
The day we met is etched in my brain as one of those guaranteed life long memories (don’t judge me, I realize it’s only been 6 months): I was walking into the CAF with a couple of my friends. Thankfully, they were already familiar with the campus, because I was struggling to get the layout down-pact.
Clarke, my friend from high school was telling us about a few events that were geared toward welcoming the incoming freshman class and mingling with some of the existing students. That’s when he accidentally bumped into me, causing me to drop my books all over the newly-waxed tile floor.
“Excuse me beautiful! My apologies, let me get those for you.” He stopped me from bending over to gather my belongings with a tender pat on my arm. When our eyes connected again, I had forgotten my agitation and was instantly intrigued.
“What’s your name?” He asked with a slight smirk that almost made me forget the answer.
“I- uh- ehem,” Clearing the apparent thirst from my throat, “Excuse me. My name is Azarae.” There was something in his eyes that was indescribable; it made me feel like I had already known him for a lifetime (at only 18 years of age). Butterflies could not compare to what I felt deep in my being at only the first interaction.
My girls left us chatting right there in the front, before you arrive at the line inside. I guess they were either really hungry or didn’t want to block the obvious sparks that were flying between us.
After entering my number into his phone upon request, I walked with him inside. I felt like I was on cloud nine and it had only been a few minutes of conversation. He was so different from what I had grown accustomed to in Tallahassee; maybe it was because he was from another State. He said he was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Or perhaps it was his general aura; he seemed to be emitting a positive energy that was practically visible by the way he carried himself and participated in our conversation. I had to know more, and honestly, I didn’t want to leave him. Luckily, he invited me to eat breakfast with him inside.
We sat at a booth discussing everything from sports teams to politics and religion; nothing was off limits during the conversation, yet it teetered and flowed ever so smoothly. Before that day, I would literally laugh at the notion of love at first sight; but I swear this was the closest thing to it.
Then, directly in the middle of a shameless flirt on my behalf, his phone rang. He glanced down at his iPhone, and I could see his mood change. What he said next, nearly broke my extremely pliable heart.
Holding up his index finger, he rose from the table, “Sorry, I have to take this: it’s my girl.” He answered swiftly, “Hey babe—” Looking at me with apologetic eyes he said, “I’ll catch you later Azarae.”
I sat there at the table looking dumbfounded— torn between disappointment and admiration of his honesty. Had I been a regular chick, I would have backed off and moved on to one of the other hundred million cuties on campus. But no, I could not give in so easily. Whoever his girl was had no idea of the mistake she made by letting me meet that nearly perfect man. Challenge accepted.
TO BE CONTINUED…

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