But I wasn’t being completely honest with Jisoo. It wasn’t that I didn’t like any of the other freshmen boys on the other side of our dorm. It was that I hadn’t really thought romantically about a boy for a long time. The last time I remembered thinking that I liked a boy was probably early on in high school. But it was kind of short lived. I just thought he was interesting and when I told some of my friends that, they interpreted it as though I liked him romantically. And I went along with it, half-pretending I had a crush on him to satisfy the projections of my friends.

I can admit that I was a bit of a late bloomer. I didn’t really date at all in high school and now that I was in college, feeling a new sense of freedom and excitement, I was ready to expand my horizons and find romance. But the problem was… I just wasn’t interested in the guys.

Ugh. I feel like I’m being cagey and indecisive here. The truth is, dear reader, that as I aged and the idea of romance slipped into my brain, I always thought of other girls.

I didn’t know how to say that out loud. Not to my family or friends, not to Jisoo, and I sometimes found it difficult to even say it to myself. I know logically that a girl liking other girls isn’t really that big of deal. You see it on television and in movies all the time now. There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. I was just having a difficult time saying it. I can’t explain it. The words wanted to jump out of my mouth, but when I parted my lips they just wouldn’t exit. I was confident that I’d figure it out at college, finally come out of my shell, maybe even shuck this husk of introversion off my shoulders. But I had to wait until the time was right, you know?

It was midday and there was hustle and bustle around the cafeteria, students filing in and students filing out. I had just returned from my morning English class and before getting lunch, I wanted to stop in at the ALOHA office in the basement of the dorm to chat with them about the upcoming Shakespeare trip. As I wandered through the lobby of Leopold Hall, I ran into Chaeyoung, one of the other freshman girls in the program. We weren’t really all that friendly with each other yet, but we’d talked a couple of times.

“Hey Jennie,” she said with a smile. Chaeyoung was a music major, cute and kind of goofy. “Are you getting lunch?”

“In just a few,” I said. “I’m going to go stop into the ALOHA office first.”

“I’ll save you a spot at the table,” said Chaeyoung. “What are you going to the office for?”

“Just to talk and pay for my spot,” I said. “Do you know if it’ll be Sacco down there or someone else?” Anna Sacco was the head of ALOHA, a professor at the university, and a very smart lady. She was also a published and respected poet.

“I don’t know,” mused Chaeyoung. “I imagine Sacco is teaching a class or something. I don’t see her around Leopold very much.”

“Have you ever stopped into the office?” I asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “I suppose I still need to pay for my spot for the trip as well!”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll meet you in the caf’ in just a few.”

“Cool!” said Chaeyoung. She grinned and gave me a theatric wave. It made me happy to feel included.

I walked down the stairwell of the dorm and slinked through the narrow hallway. The walls were stucco and beige, like they hadn’t been redone in my lifetime. I ran my fingers along the bumpy stucco as I made my way toward the end of the hall where I knew the office was. As I neared, I saw that the office door was open and I saw the vagueness of a person sitting behind the desk.

“Hello?” I said softly, giving a gentle knock on the wooden door. The person, a young woman, looked up from the desk. At first she was surprised but then her visage melted into friendliness. She didn’t look much older than me. Her long blonde hair, framing her face, was very distinct, almost like Rapunzel’s, her face was doll-like with those captivating brown orbs that shone as it glimmered from the light of the sun that shone by the window, and those lips. Those perfectly shaped plump lips, she was ethereal.

“Come in,” she said, beckoning me with her hand. She pushed her keyboard away from her, moved some paperwork around, and generally tidied up her desk to make me feel welcome. “Have a seat,” she said.

“My name’s Jennie Kim,” I said, moving into the small office and lowering myself in the seat in front of the desk. “I’m a freshman.”

“I’m Lisa,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m — uh — a junior!”

Lisa. I meditated on her name for a moment. It was so beautiful and it fit her perfectly. I could alre