Love at Last Sight

      Of course, Logan and Hermione knew each other. With only 2000 fellow students on the Occidental College campus, they had some kind of connection to everybody. During Logan’s second year, he dated one of Hermione’s roommates for a couple months. The next year, she was temporarily serious with someone on Logan’s intermural ultimate Frisbee team. They passed each other at parties, and after they both picked Economics as a major, sat through plenty of lectures together.

           Nearly every Econ class during their senior year featured group projects. Although the groups were supposedly assigned at random, Logan and Hermione always ended up together. And no matter the group size or composition, they were the most responsible members. They shared a joke that they were the designated adults in the room attempting to keep the other adolescents on task.

           Whenever a team member showed up late to a meeting or texted an excuse for why they could not show up at all, Logan and Hermione smirked and glanced knowingly toward each other. They ended up doing most of the research and writing and then sharing the credit with three or four leaches. By the end of their final semester, they simply accepted the arrangement as part of life.

           Most of the conversations between Logan and Hermione involved class assignments or complaints about fellow students. When it came to personal details, neither asked questions. Logan knew Hermione played the cello in a chamber music group and she knew he did on-campus stand-up comedy. But mostly their relationship remained shallow, as if they were coworkers in the same cubicle farm.

           When they reached their last assignment on the last day of the semester, they found themselves in a typical group for a class called Behavioral Economics. The five seniors in the group were supposed to compile results from on-campus surveys about purchase preferences. As usual, Logan and Hermione had done most of the work, but they were still hoping to extract some useful writing from their three slacker teammates.

           Hermione liked scheduling meetings in a second story conference room in one of the campus’s Spanish Colonial style buildings. Everyone in the group sat in front of an open laptop. Whenever anyone leaned on the room’s rectangular table, it rocked on the uneven tile floor. A window set in the thick exterior wall was open. The smell of eucalyptus trees drifting in from the perfect afternoon outside. The graduating students found it hard to concentrate on survey results and the conversation drifted to the following week’s graduation ceremony and post-graduation plans.

           Cooper, who was at least ten minutes late to every meeting, wistfully described his new job in San Francisco. “Since it’s kind of a startup, they need me right away. I’m skipping graduation.”

           “Yeah, me too,” Logan added. “It’s all just ceremony. I fly home to Seattle tomorrow morning. Then I’ve got my internship before grad school.”

           “I would never think of missing the gowns and diplomas,” Hermione said dreamily. “After four years of tuition, I want my money’s worth at the end. My whole family’s coming for it.”

           “Kind of hard to believe that after we turn in this report it will all be over,” Cooper said. “We literally will never be graded or tested again.”

           Someone else in the group added, “We need to celebrate somehow. Maybe burn something. I always thought I would burn something like a couch during college.”

           After a meaningless brainstorm over things they might burn, Cooper had another suggestion. “We could all go to Logan’s last stand-up show and heckle him from the front row. Isn’t that tonight?”

           Logan raised his hands as if signaling them to stop. “Yeah, tonight’s my last show, but please don’t come. If I see anyone I know, I freeze up. I’m not that funny to begin with and you’ll make it worse.”

           “I don’t believe you,” Cooper replied. “You’d rather be in front of strangers than us?”

           “That’s how I am when I play the cello,” Hermione interjected. “I’m completely embarrassed playing in front of friends but strangers don’t bother me.”

           Eventually, Logan and Hermione steered the topic back to the pending report. The group changed some of the formatting and argued over the concluding paragraph. When they reached the point where no one seemed to care anymore, they submitted it an hour before it was due.

           “I guess that’s it,” Hermione said after pressing the upload button on her computer.

           After a few seconds of silence, Logan remarked, “Seems kind of anticlimactic.”

           Most of the group stood, fiddled with backpacks and water bottles, and filtered out of the room after saying goodbye. Logan and Hermione lingered. She fussed with her dark, wavy hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Logan brushed his own dark hair away from his forehead.

           “Nice to be done,” Hermione said. Then she added sarcastically, “You’re welcome for dragging you through this whole year.”

           Logan laughed. “Consider yourself thanked. Good luck with everything. I guess we’ll keep in touch.”

           They both thought they should say more but could not come up with the right words. They left the room as if they were headed to different boarding gates at an airport.

           Hermione returned to her apartment but was back on campus a few hours later carrying her cello case. The bright afternoon light had mellowed into sunset. The walkways and manicured lawns were almost deserted as Hermione drifted toward the music building. She passed a folding billboard advertising stand-up comedy in a nearby auditorium. She stopped to consider. She had never been interested in stand-up before, but she remembered this was Logan’s last show. She changed directions and walked into the auditorium.

           The comedians were relegated to a small secondary theater next to the main performance theater. Hermione crept up to the balcony with a good view of the sparse stage consisting of a microphone stand illuminated by a spotlight. A girl with cornrow braids stood behind the mike trying to get people to laugh at her stories of returning home to live with her mother after living alone at college. The audience awarded her with robust applause and she strutted away.

Logan appeared from behind the curtain. He looked comfortable and stood in a relaxed pose with one hand in his pocket like he had been there many times before. He began his set by complaining about L.A. traffic and drivers. That got big laughs. He moved on to comparing swimming in the ocean to swimming in a pool. Then he talked about the unfairness of group projects and everyone in the theater seemed to relate.

           Hermione gazed and listened in amazement. Logan wore the same clothes she had seen him in that afternoon, but she still wondered if it was the same person on stage. He was somehow more clever and charming. He sounded strangely powerful and she felt self-conscious that someone so keenly aware of the world had been observing her all year.

           As Logan reached the end of his material, he happened to look up into the balcony. He met Hermione’s eyes and they locked for several seconds. He lost his train of thought and stumbled to get his final lines out. When he walked offstage, it was to awkward clapping instead of the loud applause he deserved.

           Hermione immediately stood and hurried toward the exit. She was uninterested in other comedians and returned to her original plan of practicing her cello. She walked out of the auditorium, reached a concrete pathway, and continued toward the music building.

           Meanwhile, Logan remained shaken after spotting Hermione in the crowd. He quickly decided he had to speak with her. He hustled from the stage area and up the stairs to the balcony. On his way, he glanced through a window and saw Hermione outside. He raced to catch up with her, but when they were both on the pathway that led to the music building, he followed at a distance. He trailed her though a doorway and down a long hall. Then he reached a semicircular alcove with entrances to six practice rooms. Hermione had disappeared into one of them. Logan sat on a bench at the edge of the alcove and listened.

           After a few seconds, the sound of a cello being tuned leaked from one of the rooms. Then Logan heard practice scales followed by an unfamiliar, heart melting song. The deep and rich notes left him paralyzed. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Alone in the abandoned building, his other senses shut down as sound washed over his entire body. He could not say how long he sat there.

           The music suddenly stopped and Hermione stepped from one of the practice rooms. She flushed with embarrassment when she saw Logan staring back at her. He smiled weakly as he emerged from the cello-induced haze.

           “I didn’t know you were out here!” Hermione cried. “You shouldn’t spy on my like that.”

           “You’re really good. Amazingly beautiful,” Logan mumbled in return. Then he remembered why he had followed Hermione and added, “And you spied on me first.” He looked up at her eyes and wondered if he was seeing the same girl he knew. She looked delicate but powerful. His gaze wandered to her neck and shoulders. She was wildly attractive. Logan blushed as he felt his heart thump.

           “I came out to get a drink of water, but I can’t keep playing if I know you’re out here.”

           “I’m not leaving until you are.”

           “Then I guess I’m done. I’m packing up my cello.”

           Hermione returned to the practice room and emerged a minute later carrying the cello case. Logan trailed her out of the building and into evening darkness. Overhead lamps illuminated the walkways. The air felt warm and thick and smelled sweetly of the nearby jasmine bushes.

           “Where are you going?” Logan asked as they walked side by side.

           Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “Back to my apartment.”

           “I still can’t believe how you make all those notes and how fast your fingers move.” Logan looked down at her hands. “Can I carry the case? I want to see how heavy it is.”

           Hermione laughed and passed over the cello. Logan held it with his left hand with her walking slowly on his right. They followed the long, straight path that intersected the silent campus. Logan slowed his pace and so did Hermione. He leaned close to her, and with an anxious heartbeat, reached for her hand. When she felt his skin, she clasped his fingers in return.

           “Smooth. I see you found my hand,” Hermione said with a giggle.

           As their fingers intertwined into a comfortable position, Logan nervously said, “It’s a nice night to be out.”

           Hermione agreed and shared a list of her favorite nighttime campus spots. Logan talked about shortcuts to get from one place to another. Both wanted to say something more profound but the words escaped them. They reached the edge of campus and stopped in the looming shadow of the multi-storied Science Center.

           “Thanks for walking me this far. My apartment’s just down the street.”

           Logan put down the cello and released her hand. “I still can’t believe that was you playing.”

           “I can’t believe that was you making everyone laugh.”

           “Funny we didn’t find out until now.”

           After awkward silence, Hermione moved to reach for the cello. Logan abruptly came up with a question about which of all her classes she liked best. She asked about his tryout for the stand-up group. Before they knew it, they were facing each other and holding hands.

           “I like it when you pull you hair back like that,” Logan said. “Let’s me see your entire face.”

           She grinned crookedly. “Your eyes look a lot bigger close up.”

           They both chuckled nervously. Logan bit his lip and said, “So, I guess it’s kinda late and you have to go.”

           Hermione slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But are you going to kiss me first or what?”

           Logan immediately moved on the suggestion, grabbed her waist with one hand, tilted his head, and pushed forward until their lips met. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. After a few seconds, they pulled apart smiling.

           “You’re good at kissing too,” Hermione said.

           “So are you.”

           They retreated to the front of the corner building and sat on a set of steps. They grabbed each other’s hands and interlocked fingers. In between giggles and reminiscing about the last four years, they shared more kisses. Neither dared mention the future and their diverging plans or wonder what might have happened if they had seen each other differently before that night. Neither looked at their phone or wanted to know what time it was. The night aged warmly and slowly. Every second on the steps etched itself into their permanent memories.

           As Hermione leaned her head on Logan’s shoulder, she finally said, “My family arrives in the morning. And you have to fly away.”

           “I need to pack first,” Logan said mournfully.

           They stood and embraced one last time. She picked up the cello case and shuffled backward with her eyes on him until she reached the street corner. Then she turned without a gesture and hurried into the darkness without any promises to stay in touch.

           Logan stumbled back through campus, wondering if he would ever see her, or anyone, the same way again.