First Conversation of Many

As the wind picks up, I shiver and huddle deeper into my coat. Adam shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and we give each other awkward smiles and commiserate about the cold.

The rest of the youth group has wandered off in groups, leaving us stuck with each other, and I can’t decide how to feel about that. I had always been closer to the upperclassmen in the group, but now that I was a high school senior and they had all graduated, I was left with the few in my class that I wasn’t very close with and the underclassmen that I didn’t know well.

And then there is Adam, who's also a senior. He doesn’t come to youth group activities often, unless his friend Brad drags him along like he did tonight. I feel bad that Brad dragged him out and then left him, so I invite him to walk around with me.

Our youth leaders have decided to take us out to a place called Christmas Village; it’s set up like a miniature town decorated with lights and trees and reindeer. It’s cute, but I’m not sure either me or Adam would have chosen this as an activity had we been asked.

But we make the best of it, trying to get to know each other as we walk around to keep warm.

“So, what are you doing after you graduate?” I ask him.

“I’m going to Pittsburg to get a degree in computer programming,” he tells me. “What about you?”

I crane my neck to look up at him. I’m not a petite girl – average height and a little chubby, but Adam towers over me. I don’t think of him as fat, just big – 6’3” and broad. But he’s soft-spoken, and he seems gentle, like a big teddy bear.

“I’m staying close to home at a small college. I was thinking about getting a degree in creative writing, but the more I think about it, the more I think I should get a practical degree.”

“You want to be a writer?”

“Yeah, I’ve been taking creative writing classes for a couple of years now, and I won a poetry contest a few years ago. I want to write novels, but I should probably have a full-time job in the meantime, because I’m definitely not going to get published right away.”

He shrugs. “You never know. What would you major in if not creative writing?”

“I’m thinking about English and Education, being an English teacher.”

“I could see you as a teacher.”

“Really?” I ask. “I’ve always thought I’d make a bad teacher.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have any patience, especially when I’ve explained something multiple times, and the other person still doesn’t get it. That’s not a great trait for a teacher.”

He shrugs again. “I don’t know. I think you could do it. Kids would probably love you!”

I blush, and then he suggests we get some hot chocolate to warm us up. I agree, and we sip our hot chocolate as we admire the pretty lights and laugh at the silly Christmas scenes. At some point along the way, I notice one of my sneakers has come untied. I look down at my shoe and then at my half-drunk cup of hot chocolate, trying to figure out how to tie my shoe with one hand.

“I can hold that for you,” Adam says. I’m not sure why, but the gesture strikes me as exceedingly sweet. I hand him my cup and kneel to tie my shoe. When I stand, he holds out my cup, waiting patiently for me to take it from him.

Nothing we said that night was particularly romantic or deep or thought-provoking, and though my high school self felt some level of attraction, I never would have dreamed what that night could lead to - that five years later, the two of us would stumble upon each other again after we both had the chance to grow up a little, and eventually fall in love and get married. If you had told me that night that I was talking to my future spouse, I doubt I would have believed you, but all the same, I’m so glad we had that first talk that set the stage for many more conversations to come.