Dating a best friend
In September 2000 I lived in a dorm called Broadview, an architecturally beautiful building that had previously been a high-class hotel in the ’20s.All the rooms had their own bathrooms, and most were singles, though there were a few rooms with roommates.She was very kind, very nice, and although she was very intelligent, I found that there was something missing. She lacked the same cynicism, skepticism, and curiosity.
It should be no surprise, then, that I majored in mathematics myself. Then we would both die and be buried next to each other.
The lobby was large and inviting, and all the rooms had views of Lake Michigan, the Midway Plaisance, or the Chicago skyline. She was tiny, blonde, with a pointy nose and chin and large blue eyes.
Because I already had a year of college under my belt, I felt confident among the wide-eyed freshman who populated the majority of the dorms in broadview. As soon as I saw her, I wrote her off as a girl that would scoff at any association with me. Just because a girl was more empirically attractive didn’t mean that she shouldn’t date me.
As a crazy coincidence, we discovered that we were neighbors. I soon learned that Christine was far from perfect.
I lived in the last door of a hallway, she lived in the second to last. She was from a small town in Ohio and had grown up very poor in a family that didn’t place the highest value in education.