A friendship, a theory, and the night she proved her point.
We were roommates because it was economic survival.
There were three of us in a two-bedroom apartment not far from the University of Washington. My name was Forest. My roommates were Kevin and Mandy. She had her own room; Kevin and I shared the other.
Kevin was a political science major with plans for law school. Mandy was pre-med. I was studying engineering. Between the three of us, we covered a wide spectrum. Kevin had early morning classes, while Mandy and I usually had mornings free.
One morning, Mandy leaned against the counter and looked at the omelet I was making.
“That looks good,” she said. “You’re such a good cook. One of these days I’ll get up early and make breakfast.”
“I study probability,” I said. “I don’t believe it.”
We both laughed. I knew she was just saying it because I was already up. I was almost always the one who made breakfast, and Fridays were packed with classes.
She sat at the table and said, “We’re studying relationships in psychology. They say men often misinterpret friendships with women. They think there’s something romantic there when there isn’t. They just hang around, hoping time will eventually bring them together.”
“That’s BS,” I said. “Some men, maybe. Not all. And not me.”
She smiled. “When you’re up in the morning, I see you looking at me. I wear long shirts — there’s nothing to see — but I think you’re wondering.”
“I wouldn’t care if you were walking around naked,” I interrupted.
She laughed. “Your ploy to get me to walk around naked isn’t going to work.”
I sighed.
“Let’s do something tonight,” she said. “I’ll show you. We can walk around The Ave.”
“You want to prove a point?”
“We can just hang out,” she said. “That’s fine, right?”
“Sure,” I said. “I cooked, so you wash the dishes?”
She sighed this time. I laughed, grabbed my bag, and left for class.
When I got back later, she was sitting on the couch wearing a nice shirt and jeans.
“You’re home early,” I said.
“My anatomy lab was canceled,” she said. “The TA was sick. No replacement. Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to look at dead people today. It’s sunny. It’s spring. No rain.”
“It doesn’t always rain,” I said.
“You’re from Spokane,” she said. “You haven’t lived here long enough. The rain rumors are real.”
She stood. “It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s walk.”
The Ave was busy. You could smell coffee roasting, bread baking, food sizzling from open kitchens. People moved in and out of shops. It felt alive.
We stopped at a coffee place with outdoor seating and watched people go by.
“I’ll get the coffee,” I said. “I fly, you buy.”
“I bought last time,” she said.
I knew I had bought last time, but she was smiling like she’d won something, so I let it go.
We were sitting at a table for four when another couple walked up.
“Are these seats taken?” they asked.
“Go ahead,” we said.
“My name’s Mandy,” she said.
“Forest,” I said.
The guy started to grin. “Run — ”
“No Forest Gump jokes,” I said. “I’ve heard them since grade school.”
They laughed. I was mostly serious.
“I’m Jack,” he said. “This is Gail.”
Mandy leaned forward. “Are you friends, or a couple? I’m confirming something from my psychology class.”
“We’re a couple,” Gail said. “But we were friends for years first.”
“Yeah,” Jack added. “Eventually I made my move. After that, everything changed.”
We talked about Sound Transit and commuting by train.
After coffee, Mandy and I walked on.
“See?” she said. “The guy waited around and finally made his move.”
“So you’re saying I’m waiting around for you?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t say that.”
“It sounded like you were implying that men and women can’t be friends without wanting more.”
“I said it happens,” she said. “Not that it’s absolute.”
I didn’t argue.
“Let’s go to the U-Dub Pub,” she said.
I ordered a near beer. She had a glass of wine. We sat by the window where books and old movie posters lined the sill.
She pointed at one. “Have you ever seen Waiting for the Rose to Bloom?”
“It’s about two friends,” I said. “The guy waits forever while the girl dates other people. Eventually they get together.”
“That’s not entirely what it’s about,” she said.
We dropped the subject. She ordered another glass of wine. I got another near beer.
When we left, it was around 7:30. The sun was lower now, angled toward the horizon. We walked down by the canal and leaned on the railing, watching boats drift past.
After a while, Mandy said, “You might be right. Men and women can be friends without wanting something more.”
Then she turned, put her arms around me, and kissed me.
She pulled back, licked her lips, and smiled. “In the movie, the girl was waiting for the guy to make a move for a long time. Eventually she decided to make the move herself.”
She kissed me again.
We watched the sun go down over the canal. For that night, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.