Like all good tales, this one is enriched by a little backstory (Jump down a few paragraphs if you're trying to get to the interesting bits). This is the first time I've written something like this, so bear with me.
I've been told that I have a 'type,' and Jess falls perfectly within it. Slim, average height, shoulder-length brunette hair, and a face that made you think she had just enough Eastern blood in her to check one of those special boxes on her college apps. Did I mention slim? I'm a sucker for slender legs. Looks aside, she was bright as well. We were both members of a science-y club at our university, and I had the pleasure of seeing (spectating) her once a week for an entire semester of my second year. We chatted from time to time, and occasionally met for homework seshes for a class we shared, but I really didn't expect anything to come of my interest in her. Somewhere around week 3 or 4 of the semester, the fateful 'boyfriend' word had slipped into one of her sentences and I immediately resolved to settle for 'just friends.' Did I still want like hell to sleep with her? Yesss. Was I homewrecker? Not quite yet. The phrase "speed bump not a stop sign" danced in my head for a bit, but I pushed it away and carried on the rest of the semester pursuing other interests.