Dinner was fine, I got my usual pizza and a salad. The conversation was fine, nothing too thrilling, but, nothing too awkward, either.
Skip to the end of the night...
The part of the night I was dreading: the goodbye.
I had so many questions; was there going to be a kiss? or just a hug? or a wave?
When we got to the lobby of my dorm, I thanked him and went in for a hug, which he apparently mistook for a kiss, so leaned in to kiss me. I think the best way to explain my expression as he tried to kiss me is the look one has after they bite into a surprisingly sour piece of candy... with my eyes open. I immediately pulled away and started to walk away, flustered.
As I was walking away, he looked at me and said, "I don't even get a hug?" I reluctantly turned around and gave him a hug and then scurried off.
Always being single does not equal being desperate. I was not about to make out with a guy I didn't really know in my dorm lobby on a Wednesday night. Those factors don't exactly scream romantic make out session.
Surprisingly, that was not the last time I went on a date with the Junior although, it obviously didn't last or I would not be... perpetually single.
