When I visited Wash U as a high school senior, I met this guy. We were both waiting in the admissions office for a shuttle to the airport and we ended up chatting for over an hour. I thought he was flirting with me, and while he wasn’t “my type”, I was flattered and curious. I often wondered about him after I got home and broke the news to my parents that my college education was going to be very expensive.
Sure enough, that fall he showed up in the engineering school too. When I was a freshman I was pretty involved in the Engineering Student Council, and he quickly found his way there as well. As I saw him in action, I determined he was cocky—coming off as a bit of jerk—and the memories of our interlude in the admissions office were easily shoved to the back of my brain.
Surfing through my friends and their friends today on Friendster, I came across his name and picture. I was surprised to see his name and face on my computer screen, but my jaw literally dropped when I saw his current location: Denver. Nearly nine years later and we’re living practically next door to one another. Even though I’m curious about what brought him to my area, I didn’t message him. Nothing in our shared history drives me to reconnect with him—except that afternoon in the admissions office.