The boy, Alex

I diverted my eyes hastily from the piercing stare of the newly transferred college student. I must admit, he had a charming look, and his face bore no blemishes. I was not comfortable with his persistent stare, which he made no effort to conceal, and despite my efforts to distract my mind, my curiosity would not concede to being overlooked. I have seen him a couple of times in the lecture hall, but not within the close proximity where we sat to solve a quiz as a group of seven, which we would present to the class after a week. The lecturer had grouped the class into clusters, giving each task to perform, involving us interacting with one another. As much as I tried to focus and contribute to solving the problems, I found it hard to waive off those two eyeballs that continually feasted upon me. I have had several stares and advances myself; my beauty was one to be reckoned with; the dark-skinned average-height girl with the athletic physique I was had many boys over their heels. At 19 and in my freshman year of college, I already had two ex-boyfriends; I was quick to initiate breakups with them whenever I felt inconvenienced.

"Excuse me, that approach seems archaic." The new student spoke out in a low but firm tone, countering my suggestion. I turned my gaze to him, just like other group members, as he dropped his raised hand. I must admit, his voice was as sweet as his innocent face, but at that instance, my ego was brushed and threatened, and I wanted more than ever to affirm my take on solving the problem.

"Okay, let's hear your modern solution." I snapped at him, making it obvious I did not appreciate his opinion.

"If I may?" He said this, coming closer to the circle we formed for my group. I waited anxiously, ready to counter whatever method he would come forward with. "Pardon my manners; I'm Alex," he said. "The beautiful lady's view is commendable; however, that is a little mundane and may not hold water. We can extrapolate Greg Mason's theory of... " He continued while I blushed at his opening statement. "At least he acknowledged my beauty," I thought to myself, drowning in the blissful thought of a spider wrapping its victim in a victorious web. "Well, unless she can defend her postulate, it would be safer to tread on the path of caution." He concluded. My bias and fury gradually dissipated, and I opted for reasoning along his line of thought. "Perhaps we could have her lead the group during the defense presentation?"

My wandering thoughts vanished instantly when I realized numerous eyeballs stared at me. Alex had successfully put me in a tight corner, and I swear I could smell a smirk on his face as he chuckled lightly, perhaps delighting himself at his tantrums. I squeezed my hands tightly, thinking of the best escape route that would neither look embarrassing nor cowardly. "The gentleman sounds confident in his approach; it would not be bad to give him the show for a shine." I mustered, which sent some questioning looks at me from other group members; however, attention was diverted afterward back to him. The few smart ones, I bet, would know Alex and I were taunting each other as if we were lovebirds.

"Very well then, on the condition that I work with her." Alex said, pointing at me directly. "Of course, as my assistant group presenter, if there is a need for that,"

"With all pleasure, Alex, I'm sure I can correct lapses you may miss out on from your overconfidence." I replied with a smirk.

"Excuse me, are we still talking about the group presentation? It looks like you both have some personal issues to sort out. We want to trust Alex and Abimbola that you'll come up with a presentation that will get us good grades; we can call it a day for today." A group member said: Other members of the group nodded in agreement, packed their bags, and left, leaving myself and Alex.

"Pardon my manners; I'm Alex Osanmuta." Alex said, stretching forth his hand for a shake.

"Abimbola Lawanson." I replied simply.

"I'm honored to meet your acquaintance."

"I wish I could say the same. Anyway, welcome to Trafford College, and word of advice: be sure not to get in my black book." I rolled my eyes and shook his hand, feigning as much anger as I could, even though I knew I was terrible at it.

"Wow, your palm is so soft like a newborn; you must have been an angel in your previous life." Alex replied, ignoring my threat.

"Thanks for the flattery, but I have trust issues with dark-skinned boys who believe they're handsome and can sweep innocent ladies off their feet with their charm."

"Thank you too for the indirect compliments. Is this where you say yes to my dinner date tomorrow by 7 p.m.?

"Gosh, you're too full of yourself. Anyway, I'll choose the venue; hopefully you can afford the bills."

"I don't mind selling the world to foot your bills."

"Why not sell me also?" I replied, both of us bursting into laughter.

I enjoyed Alex's humor and wit. I had the nudge in my heart that I had just met my perfect complement. The thoughts of our conversations appealed to my heart, readily painting smiles on my face. I fell irresistibly in love with Alex after our dinner date; he surely was one to keep me ever smiling, and yes, I let him present for the group after much research and study on the topic given.

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Eight years later, I bore my husband, Alex, a bouncing baby boy, and as usual, he would not stop teasing me how much his gene had contributed to our baby's finesse, which constantly crowded my emotions with delight.