This story is told from Jake’s point of view. The first time Ilena and I were in the same space was during freshman welcome week, on the second day of orientation for the Kinesiology department. A professor addressed the entire group before we broke off into smaller sections based on our majors. Ilena and I ended up in the same group, standing only a few feet apart. Despite that, I made a very intentional effort not to speak to her—or even look at her. It wasn’t rudeness; it was fear. Talking to someone you’re attracted to is a completely different experience than talking to someone you’re not. When the group leader called on me to introduce myself, I was so lost in my own head that she had to repeat my name twice before I responded. I managed to say my name, major, and hometown, the standard welcome-week script. When Ilena introduced herself, I risked a quick glance. That was a mistake. One look at her eyes and I immediately short-circuited. I vaguely remember she said she was from Ohio, but everything else disappeared. We crossed paths again about a week later in developmental psychology. My friend and I arrived late on the first day, leaving us with no option but to sit in the front row. The professor instructed us to turn to the person next to us for an icebreaker. Since my friend was beside me, we ignored the assignment and started working on other homework. Then a voice from behind us asked, “So what are your names?” I turned around and saw Ilena smiling—warm, friendly, and clearly someone who genuinely enjoyed meeting people. It was obvious she had a way of making others feel comfortable. Not long after, we realized we shared the same chemistry professor. When I asked how her first exam went, she openly admitted chemistry wasn’t her strong suit. Feeling both helpful and strategic, I offered to send her a Quizlet I had made to study. Soon after, she sent me photos from a titration lab where the solutions turned pink, and what began as a casual exchange turned into an all-night conversation. The next day, I invented a reason to ask her for help with chemistry just to keep talking. She joked that viewing homework through Instagram was annoying and suggested texting instead—then gave me her number. From that point on, we texted constantly. She was out thrifting and visiting coffee shops with friends while I was busy doing stereotypical “guy stuff,” yet neither of us was very present with our groups. Later that week, I completely wrecked my ankle playing football. Since Ilena was a physical therapy major, I told her what happened and jokingly asked if she could help tape it. Somehow, she said yes. I panic-cleaned my dorm, fixed my hair, sprayed cologne, and waited nervously. When she knocked and I opened the door, I knew instantly she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Seeing her outside of class changed everything. She taped my ankle—poorly, but that wasn’t the point. The moment mattered far more than the tape. Looking back, that awkward, impulsive decision marked the beginning of something that would change my life.