"Liza, he is staring at you again and smiling!" Sandra whispers as Professor Dryless’s class is settling down to begin. Sandra, my gorgeous and brilliant friend, who speaks five languages fluently, almost always begins this class by saying these exact same words. Every time, I usually am ignoring her when she gets like this.  She must be nuts, because if he is staring at anyone, it would be her and not me. We say the same things about him in every class:

"He is so full of himself."

"He is such a playboy type."

"I just hate those kinds of guys." As if all good looking men, who are intelligent, and perfect and charming in every way are all full of themselves.  Oh, and as if we even know what we are talking about! But for some reason he annoys us and we are very verbal with each other about it. I mean, who does he think he is, to just show up being so handsome with his dark Beatle haircut and baby blue eyes and being so calm and in control? Probably just thinking to himself that he could just swoop anyone off their feet?

Professor Dryless is busy stacking his papers together and pushing his longish hair cut to the side while looking up in our direction, and, well, I would say smirking and not really genuinely smiling.

"But Liza, he IS staring at you again!" Sandra was being her normal melodramatic self, which I actually like about her personality in my perverted mind. She is always trying to pair me off with Prof. Dryless, for some reason. She has a vicarious bent in her personality, so sometimes I have to be careful about what she encourages me to do or notice.

"Oh, give me a break, Sandra. There could be 120 people in this class." Sandra and I are taking this communications mandatory class as an obligation to fulfill our degree requirements. It is my only auditorium class that seats 120 people in a theatre setting. I like the obscurity it affords me. The anonymity makes me feel that this class can be an easy skate. And a chance to visit with Sandra more, my very intense, very smart and very funny friend.

Sandra turns facing me with her piercing brown doe eyes. I enjoy her intensity and softness of appearance and very obsessive personality, especially when she talks about her Jimmy Page "love of her life" antics. I have never met a groupie before, I mean someone being a groupie for someone else. Of course, I haven’t really had groupies of my own but I have had really supportive people at times in my life.

I really enjoyed helping Sandra write her letter of love and admiration to Jimmy Page of Led Zepplin. That was really fun. Also, she is a straight A student and that actually brought us together the year before when we were both on the dean’s list and when we were both invited to be Davies Scholars which we both rejected as being way too beneath us, I mean can you imagine us having to partake in discussions of how, for instance, how many angels can fit on the top of a pinhead? Although, we are attending a Catholic University we are proud that we do not support its dogma. Of course, that makes us feel very important and superior.

"Liza! Look! He keeps looking at you and smiling. Look." She whispers again into my ear full of confidence that she is right.

"OK, class, we are going to watch the movie Citizen Kane today and I want you just to absorb it and do not take any notes. Just enjoy it. We will discuss it in our next class." Professor Dryless said as he casually swaggers to the right side of the room, dimming the lights.

I am looking forward to some non thinking time while watching the movie. Sandra is still poking me and laughing about this guy liking me. She is being very childish and such a vicarious creature! I am beginning to think that SHE likes him!

As Dryless dims the lights, the class of about 120 people in the auditorium classroom shuffle and begin to sink down into their seats to watch the movie. Sandra and I are sitting on the right side of the room near the front, by the door, where we can always make quick exits.

Sandra begins to poke me again, kind of making a whispered scream: "Liza! He’s coming our way!"

"Give me a break, Sandra, drop it."

Then I see Dryless walking up the steps to our 5^th row seat and squeezing passed some people to come our way.

"Oh my God," I gasp. "I cannot believe this! Oh my God."

Sandra is almost choking as he squeezes past her and past me to sit in the seat next to me.

Oh, my God, I am thinking again, because well, this is so absurd and really I hate the guy, well, I don’t really know if I hate him, because I don’t even know him, but I do really hate the playboy type that he seems to be.

"Well, hello," He says quietly in his very calm and serene voice.

"Hi."

"I’ve noticed you in my class. Your name is Liza, isn’t it?" He continues as if we were great friends.

"Yes."

"A Fine Arts Major?"

How does he know these things about me I am wondering.

"Yes."

"What kind of art do you do?" He asks as Citizen Kane surrealistically views in the background of my life.

I almost feel like I might throw up, and I am trying to figure out if I can get to the ladies room in time if I do, but, where is the closest ladies room? Sandra and I never use the ladies room in this building, just the one near "The Hut" where we have our morning coffee.

"Could you come by my office sometime?" He asks as if it is the most natural question in the world. As if flirting and talking with students much younger than he is is perfectly ok.

I don’t answer. I cannot believe that I do not answer him.

I mean will I get and "F" for not answering? What is going on here?? Why is he sitting in this chair near me? Go away I say to myself. If I get an "F" for not answering will it ruin my straight "A’s" and my Davies Scholarship invitation? Go away.

Professor Dryless says with a very warm smile, "Well, I am looking forward to talking some more with you when you visit my office. How about 2:00 PM tomorrow? See you then". He smiles and briefly touches my shoulder as he gets up to go sit with his assistant and continue watching the movie. I feel as though my shoulder is branded because his touch does not go away even when he does finally go away.

Sandra is, for the first time in my entire time of knowing her, speechless. We continue watching the movie in silence, eyes straight ahead, minds racing frantically to nowhere.