This post is part of the A to Z Challenge. This year, I’ll be writing about people, places and events that I encountered and experienced when I left home for the first time to live in a residential college for two years. I was 18. I’ve a book in the works about those significant and tumultuous two years but I’ve still got a long way to go. I’m hoping dredging up some memories and writing about them during this Challenge will push me further towards the finish line. With that, each post this month will be associated with a letter of the alphabet in this theme. Enjoy!
I remember driving up towards the college campus. I was in the back seat of my parent’s Pajero, clutching my backpack. I had another suitcase in the trunk of the car. It was mid-morning and I thought I’d be early but there were already many students and their family milling around the academic block, which was where we were supposed to register upon arrival.
As we drove past the academic block, looking for a spot to park in, I noticed a boy in a white dress shirt tucked into black pants. A woman, most likely his mother, was straightening his tie. The boy wore a bored and frustrated look on his face. I smiled to myself.
Later, I learnt the boy’s name was Aaron. He ended up my classmate for the next two years. I also learnt that he liked to tap his feet when he was figuring out problems and that he thought I was a strange creature.
He was my first love.