Where I Learn From My Mistakes

1: The Swedish Boy

I saw him long before she did.

He stepped into the tutorial room at approximately 8:09 in the morning, on the day of the very first Business Law class. I had been looking at the door at that exact moment, for some incredible, unknown reason. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been the first to see him.

I had known, from the very first glance, that he had been someone special. That shock of short blonde hair, that fair, blemish-free skin, those strong, sharp features that could've hinted at blue-blooded lineage in his family tree...

He was very, very good looking. It didn't help that the sunlight streaming in behind him through the open door bathed him in a soft golden glow and made him look like an angel that had somehow gotten lost and walked right into my life by mistake.

It was suddenly becoming a chore to breathe normally.

Lilly was still chattering away beside me, talking about the first day of class or something equally inane, but my whole attention was fixed on this... this angelic boy who had just walked into class.

He was looking around as he passed, possibly looking for a friendly face but found none. In the end, he had to walk past our table to reach the other side of the room, where the bulk of empty seats were.

The messenger bag slung over his shoulder bumped against the edge of our table as he squeezed past.

"Sorry," he said politely, glancing briefly at us.

He had an accent. Well – everyone had an accent. But he had an accent that didn't sound like everyone else's. His words had a certain foreign lilt to them – a melody that flowed through the air danced its way straight into my heart.

By then, Lilly had stopped talking and was also looking at him.

"Oh, my gosh," I whispered when he was out of earshot, burying half of my face into my hands, so that only my eyes were uncovered. Beneath my palm, I could feel the heat radiating off my skin. "He is so cute."

"Eh," Lilly said in an unimpressed tone from beside me, "he's okay."

My heart was beating hard. There was a feeling of euphoria rising in my chest – the kind that you had when you were around someone you really, really liked. There is an English word for it – limerence. But that doesn't sound particularly romantic. The Danish equivalent – forelsket – sounds much better.

Everything usually sounds much better in a foreign language.

"Do you think he's Scandinavian?" I whispered out of the corner of my mouth to Lilly while I snuck another look at him. He had sat down one table away and was now rummaging in his bag. He looked like one – he had the typical fair skin, blond hair, blue eyes...

"Maybe," Lilly said. She was looking out of the corner of her eye at him too.

When class began and attendance was taken for the first time, I learnt that his name was Bernt Eriksson. Eriksson – that was a Swedish name, wasn't it?

I spent the entire class in a daze, straining to catch glimpses of Bernt out of my peripheral vision whenever possible. Unfortunately, since he was seated on the side of the room nearer to Lilly, she was in the way of my direct line of sight most of the time. By the end of the class, I was a little grouchy from straining my eye muscles so much.

"Are we meeting the others for lunch?" Lilly was asking me as we were packing up to leave. I took a moment to reply her, since I was concentrating hard on trying to hear what Bernt was saying as he walked past our table with some other guy he had apparently befriended over the course of the class.

"Yeah, I'm from Sweden," I heard him say.

"Cool," his new friend responded. "How long have you been here?"

Never before had my obsession with other cultures and languages come more in handy. Long ago – another lifetime ago, when I had been more than a little intrigued by the Scandinavian countries – I had dabbled in a few Swedish phrases.

"Ja," I said to Lilly, in a louder voice and stronger accent than necessary. It wasn't an entirely conscious act, but perhaps a part of me wanted to attract his attention.

I succeeded.

I felt, more than saw, him turn around and his gaze land on me.

Lilly was regarding me oddly. "Um, okay," she said, choosing not to comment on my sudden change in volume or accent. "Let's go, then."

I felt his gaze remain on me as we left and grinned to myself. With that one word, I had managed to get his attention. And – who knew? Maybe in time, something else, something exciting, could happen...

The semester had just started, but I loved Business Law class already.

***

"He is so cute!" I gushed, tapping the tines of my fork against my plate for emphasis. I was probably breaking all the rules of dining etiquette, but I didn't care. "His name is Bernt, and he's from Sweden... And he has these amazing eyes..." I trailed off to stare into the distance with what I was sure looked like hearts in my eyes.

All around me, I could see my friends exchanging amused glances.

"What?" I demanded.

"Let me guess," Wendi drawled, "he has blue eyes?"

"And blond hair?" Raine laughed.

"Yeah," Lilly confirmed, with a quick glance at me.

I pouted. "What, am I so predictable?"

Wendi joined Raine in her laughter. "You have a really obvious type."

"Fine," I said sulkily. "He really is very cute, though."

"Is he?" Raine turned to Lilly.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, slightly insulted that she'd felt the need to ask for confirmation. Why was she deemed to be a good judge of cute guys, when I apparently wasn't? She always went for guys that I found incredibly boring – her most recent ex, for one. They'd been broken up for over a year now, and he'd graduated long since, but I could still remember the horror stories Lilly had regaled me with back when they'd still been dating.

"Well, yeah... He is good-looking," Lilly hedged.

"If Lilly says so, it must be true," Wendi said.

"Hey!" I repeated.

"Sorry, Kay," Raine told me, still laughing slightly, "it's just that you find every blond and blue-eyed foreign boy cute."

"That's not true," I muttered.

"Uh, it kinda is," Wendi said.

"I hate you guys," I whined, stabbing my fork into the meat on my plate.

"Okay, okay," said Raine, always the mediator. "What's he like? Tell us."

"I don't know what he's like," I pouted. "I haven't talked to him yet. But he has a really nice accent, it sounds so melodic..."

"There she goes again," Wendi said with a chuckle.

"Well, his accent is kind of nice..." This from Lilly.

I brandished my fork at her mock-threateningly. "I saw him first. Cute Swedish boy is mine!"

She grimaced, holding up her hands in an 'I surrender' gesture, but she didn't say anything.