Tacos, and Unexpected Adventures.

I stood there, captivated by the part-smile, part-grin that adorned your face.

"You're late, you know," I remarked.

"I don't think so, I believe I got here right on time," you replied.

I chuckled, "You think? Next time you keep me waiting even for a minute, I'm walking away," I said, pseudo-angrily walking ahead of you while harboring a secret smile on my face.

After walking a few extra paces, you called out loudly, "It's not that way, Bren."

Dear readers, "Bren is short for Brenda," I guess it's time for an introduction. I'm Brenda Parker, a tall, dark-skinned beauty with brown eyes or at least that's how people described me 15 years ago. Now, I'm just a 32-year-old woman with flaky ashy skin, and a face that screams grief. I am the last of five children born to a professor and a veterinary doctor. Michael always called me Bren, a name that brings back equal parts happiness and grief.

I halted, rolled my eyes, and turned to face you. As i walked toward you; I preemptively said, "Not a word." With your hands in your pockets, you laughed, and together, we started walking to wherever this place was.

Our steps fell into a nice walking pattern, legs moving in unison. I tried to keep up after I noticed, but your taller stature, longer legs, and the fact that I was so engrossed in a story about a misogynistic professor in my department made us go out of sync. One thing I admired about you was that every time I spoke, you looked at me like you'd never heard words before. You always spoke so little and had this smile that made me shy and self-conscious at times. 

You were so attentive that while I was babbling about how all misogynistic men should be imprisoned, I didn't notice when some random guy nearly walked into me. I only realized when you put your arms across my shoulders, pulling me closer to you, minimizing the contact I had with the fellow who obviously had eye defects. 

Your hands lingered on my shoulder for a while, and you asked me, "Are you okay?"

"Of course, I'm okay. It's not like he was a truck," I retorted.

Amidst shared laughter, I halted, "We've practically walked the length and breadth of this campus; when exactly do we plan to get to this mysterious spot?" I asked. We had walked for a considerable length of time, past familiar departments and faculties until we reached a section of the school unknown to me. Apparently, our college boasted more gates than I had anticipated, and this location was close to the third one.

"Speaking of trucks", you said as you casually gestured towards a graffitied food truck parked ahead, surrounded by a throng of young men and women, " here we are."

Seeing a gathering of people in front of a food truck manned by two young men alluded to the fact that I had, in fact, never explored every nook and cranny of campus. I bubbled with excitement, anticipating the meal awaiting me. As we joined the steadily progressing queue, my curiosity grew.

"Tacos, burgers, and wings – what do you want?" you inquired like you read my mind.

Having never tried tacos before, I opted for tacos, wings and a strawberry milkshake, a choice you also went with. As we neared the front of the queue, a young lady took our orders, and just when we finally reached the forefront of the truck, our late lunch was just being completed. There wasn't much space for seating and eating, with many opting to take their meals back into the campus, but we discovered a white plastic table with brown wooden benches on both sides beside the truck. 

Seated there with the sun casting a warm, golden hue over our shared meal, we engaged in our usual back-and-forth of jokes and banter. I had the most fun with you that day, and as a woman who was well-fed, I didn't know if it was the deliciousness I just ate or if it was you. I didn't care to differentiate because it was one and the same, YOU. Anytime and anywhere, I always had fun with you. After we finished eating, we started to walk back into campus, and this time around it was more of a casual stroll because we had gone where we wanted to, and we were pretty much still full.

"You see why you should always trust me; I have good taste," you said.

 I scoffed, "I mean, look at me, you definitely have good taste," I replied. You looked at me, grinning with a smile that reached your eyes, and I shrugged and smiled as well.

While we were caught up in the entire hullabaloo, the amazing smell of sand and rain filled the air. We paused for a minute and looked around, It was very unusual for it to rain in November. It was pretty clear that we were going to get drenched in this rain, and since we were far away from the main campus, there was no way for us to wait the rain out. We picked up our paces and tried to cover more ground before the rain started, but alas, Mother Nature wanted to cleanse us from the stress of the day. 

The rain started with drops of water falling on our skin, and at that point, I had become resigned to my fate. I stopped and decided to let the water just wash over me, but you had other thoughts. Without uttering a word, you interlocked your fingers with mine, and in an unexpected burst of energy, initiated a spirited run.Hand in hand, we dashed into the rain, and in that moment, I couldn't escape the whimsical feeling of stepping into the most clichéd scene from romantic movies.

As we ran, laughter echoing in the rain-soaked air, I turned to catch a glimpse of you. Your eyes met mine, and with a smile that mirrored the infectious joy of the moment. The world around us faded, leaving only the rhythmic patter of raindrops and the shared thrill of a spontaneous adventure, with your hand in mine.