May I ask you a few questions? (Part 1)

It was 1976, but I don’t remember much of what happened that year. All I recall is my skin growing especially pale and a boy I was particularly fond of…
“What class are you going to now?” asked Emily.
“That painting class I was telling you about, with professor Holstein,” I replied in a dazed tone. I simply had not been feeling like myself lately. It could have been the insomnia, or perhaps the faint connection I felt towards everyone.
“Woah, Holstein, he’s good, and difficult to get. How’d you pull that off?”
“I don’t know, just signed up for classes early.”
“I’ll meet you tonight, at Zeno’s. You’re coming, right?”
Shoot, I totally forgot about Zeno’s, and here I was, planning on making it a movie night, just me and a pint of classic vanilla ice cream.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss shooting darts and stale bar nuts with my best friends,” I replied in a deceivingly sincere tone. She began galloping away as she contently sung, “You better not.” I’m surprise she didn’t catch the sarcasm; she always catches my sarcasm. I wasn’t planning on missing out on tonight, but I honestly did not feel like going.
I arrived to class a bit early. I took a seat near the front, as I do in all my classes. The small room quickly filled with a variety of people. Finally, professor Holstein marched in. I could tell he was an impatient man, with his fiery skin and the attitude to match. Nonetheless, he was pleasantly humorous and extroverted. As he cracked one of his many jokes, I laughed and looked around the room. No one stood out, except for one lad. He had dark brown hair, and the sweetest eyes. His shoulders were bold, yet delicate, and his attentiveness was quite captivating. For the rest of the class, I attempted not to stare, and I was successful, though it was difficult.
That night I went to Zeno’s, shot some darts, ate stale bar nuts, and, oh yeah, saw the lad from my art class.
“So that’s your mystery chap?”
“Yup.”
“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him.”
“Are you insane?! I don’t know him”
“That’s why you walk over there, and get to know him. You know you want to,” giddily affirmed Emily, with the smuggest look on her face. I was trying to play it cool, only looking over at him ever few minutes, but Emily and Nathan were making it impossible by repeatedly looking over in his direction.
“Quit looking. He’s going to know we’re talking about him.”
“Oh relax, he already saw you.”
“I’m serio… What? Really? When? Oh no! He’s going to think I’m a total creep and…”
“Relax. It was about fifteen minutes ago, when you went to the washroom. He watched you walk there, then, come back.” I was certain Emily was messing with me. There was no way he would even notice me.
“It’s true,” said Nathan. Once he affirmed it, I began to think Emily’s claim was somewhat credible, and I blushed.
The night went on and I was still there, shooting darts, eating stale bar nuts, and now, drinking a cool mineral water with lemon. I looked around at the dim container of drunken college students and girls with their much older college boyfriends, and noticed my new attraction was working his way through the sea of bodily blurs. I could tell he was leaving, because he grabbed his coat and shook hands goodbye. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t want to attempt anything to make him stay.
He stopped a few meters from the doorway to chat with a friend he ran into, but the entire time, he stared and smiled at me. I, of course was chatting up my own friends, but could not help but stare and smile back. It was as if our gazes locked and nothing could avert our eyes, until finally, his conversation died, and so did our optical romance…