Chapter 2

The number two could probably be considered my lucky number.

In high school, I had had my second period classes for two years in a row with my boyfriend – which made calculus that much more fun. My birthday is on the 22nd and this past March, I had gotten two $20 Chapters gift cards with which I bought two of the newest novels by my favourite author, Jodi Picoult. Whenever my French teacher asked us to pick a number to take the attendance list down to the office (it was a small class and a walk in the halls was a break we all needed), I always picked two and I suppose it was her favourite number, because I would score that walk more than anyone else.

This year, on the second day of the semester, I won a free pizza and didn't share with anyone – so I didn't have to buy lunch or dinner for two days! Oh yeah! Didn't see that one coming, huh?

And on the third day, I met the guy that I would eventually end up with.

And no, I didn't immediately hate him or feel morbidly irritated by his lack of respect for women. I didn't know him at all at that point.

He lived on the ninth floor of my building – two floors below me – and he just seemed like the kind of guy that wanted to be friendly but was too awkward to maintain a friendship.

When he got on the elevator – we both realized that the ride was slightly too long for us to pretend the other was not there. So we discussed what all students awkwardly discussed when meeting and greeting one another:

"Are you going to class?"

"Yep – I have a psychology lecture. You?"

"I'm heading to biology – blehg," I smiled, looking for that knowing smile I would get from any other science student – didn't get one, "What major are you in?"

"Criminal Justice and Public Policy," he said, smiling proudly, "I'm hoping to become a lawyer."

"Ohh! That's awesome!" I said. On your merry way to joining a world full of corporate assholes… I thought.

"What about you?"

"Biophysics," I said, again expecting an admiring eyebrow raise like I had gotten multiple times in the past three days, with no avail, "Yeah, I'm not sure what I want to do yet, maybe cancer research or radiology."

"Nice," he muttered with no interest.

The elevator reached the lobby and we stepped out and literally went our separate ways – I went left to the South entrance of the building, to which the science lecture halls were closer – and he went North. I saw him a few times after that in the next month, exchanged the occasional, "Oh hey!" around campus, but never bothered to get to know the boring arts student in any greater depth.