His name is David.    

       Who is David, you might ask? Is it David Beckham? David Bowie? Or DAVID AND GOLIATH?? I hate to break it to you, but this is just plain “David.”

      I didn’t know his last name. I never asked, or it could simply be that I forgot. And the story is not that interesting. It is simply sweet and innocent, so I just want to keep it somewhere safe so that it won’t be lost among the sea of memories when time passes.

      The story began when we met at a small language school, arriving on the same day at the same time. Both newbies and new to town. I remembered seeing a blonde guy sitting in the armchair next to me, shifting awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. We were filling the school form and happened to be on the same level and, thus, in the same classes.

      Our first interaction was initiated by me, surprisingly. Imagine me being an introvert hating making conversations with random strangers, but I  was the one who started the conversation. He was that shy. Anyhow, I learnt that he was from Germany and just here in Cambridge to take some English courses during summer. A month, he told me. The time that he was supposed to spend in this strange country. Looking back, I realised how stupid I had been for not remembering it.

      We always sit together in classes and during lunches, but we didn’t talk much because of our shy nature. He once asked me if I wanted to walk with him to school in the morning. I remembered I said yes, but I never got to. I didn’t know why. I was probably nervous. Still, we were friends. We hung out together after classes, drinking beer at Isaac Newton and watching football matches. However, one incident later that week changed everything.

      As a Marvel fan, naturally I was super excited about Avengers: The Infinity Wars that was coming out that weekend, so I made a plan to go see it with a couple friends. I didn’t invite David because there was a conversation where he mentioned that he was not into Marvel, or any movie stuff, if that mattered. So, I figured he wouldn’t want to go anyway. However, my friend, Maria, suggested we should ask if David wanted to come.

      “Are you sure? I don’t think he would come. He’s not into movies.”

      “Well, just try and see.”

      You can imagine it came as a total surprise to me when he said yes.

      When we got to the cinema, it was very crowded, and we were already late. It was actually quite farther that I thought it would be. In front of the cinema, people were swarming here and there with buckets of popcorn and litres of coke in their hands. So, we quickly bought the tickets and went inside.

The cinema was dark, so I didn’t think someone would notice that I broke down in the first five minutes of the film when my favourite character died in the hands of Thanos, trying to be a good guy for once in his mischievous life. My eyes were brimming with tears, and I remembered I heard a chuckling sound next to me. It was David.

Staring at him in the dark, I snapped, “Why are you laughing? I loved Loki,” tears still rolling down my face. I was sad and angry, as you would be if someone laughed at you when your heart just got shattered into pieces. He just didn’t understand why someone would be so emotionally caught up in a movie, especially THIS ONE.

      Then he looked into my eyes, and his face expression changed. His smile disappeared. Instead, his hands slowly approached my face and wiped my tears away. I was a bit stunned at that time, but I thought maybe it was the cultural difference, that it was a normal thing for a friend to do, so I let it slide and went back to watch the movie in silence.

      After the movie ended, we were talking and saying goodbyes to one another. My eyes were still red from all the crying I did (yes, I cried many times, alright?) I was hugging Maria goodbye when I noticed David was quieter than usual. He seemed...I don’t know...a bit guilty? He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but I didn’t care at the time. I was still angry with him for making fun of me. So, that night I walked home alone.

      Ping!

      22.31

      “Are you home yet?”

      “Yeah”

      “Okay, good”

      And that was the last real interaction I had with him. I mean after that, I wasn’t angry with him anymore, but I felt like there was something that shifted in our relationship. A mixed, unexplainable feeling in my guts I didn’t understand that kept swirling around whenever I talked to him, so being the worst person in the world as I am, you can guess what I did.

      I avoided talking to him.

      To be exact, I didn’t totally avoid talking to David, but it became less and less frequent. The classes went on as usual, with him sitting beside me. We still hung out with the same group of friends, but I knew something was different. One day, he asked me out of the blue whether I wanted to go and visit London together with him that Saturday. I simply replied no and that I already got a plan, which was true, by the way.

      We kind of drifted apart. Like most people do. Unfortunately.

      But one morning, he approached me before the class started.

      “What are you doing tomorrow?”

      “Actually, I am going to skip class tomorrow. Already booked the ticket to the studios, so you won’t see me in class.”

      He was silent for a moment.

      “Okay, have fun.”

      Little did I realise that would be the last time I ever saw him.

You see, I was also a HUGE fan of Harry Potter (I know...) and I made a plan to visit the Warner Bros. Studio at Watford Junctions. I already booked the ticket beforehand, alone, of course, and decided to skip school that day. It was the best trip of my life, and the longest one, too. I left Cambridge at six in the morning and arrived home at almost midnight. However, when I came back to class the next day, the seat next to me was empty. I turned around to Jake, another friend of mine, and asked,

“Have you seen David? He’s not usually late for classes.”

Jake shrugged and casually replied,

“His course ended yesterday, so he already caught the train back last night.”

My stomach went hollow, and, suddenly, everything made sense. I walked back to my seat and sat down. Caroline, the teacher, came in and taught us something related to relative pronouns, but that class was a blur. Or a blip, I’d say. A real blip. 

I kept thinking,

I never had a chance to say goodbye to him.

We lost contact after that summer. He went back to his country, and I went back to mine. He probably forgot about me already, a random girl he met during the summer half a decade ago. I also forgot about him, for a time. The world went on as usual, spinning people away out of each other’s orbit.

Anyway,

To all the people who found and lost each other.