WRITING

Your Warm Hands. My Shaking Heart

My hopes were low. I was standing alone and waiting for my first ever university lecture. Was I ready to face the best years of my young life, filled with independence and excitement? No. Not at all. During registration, my hands shook too badly to properly fill out the forms. But maybe things will improve. Maybe I’ll find an angel to grant me a miracle. Yeah. Right.

My first lecture was Psychology and it was a little late into the day. At the venue, students were milling around outside, making casual conversation and waiting for the lecture before ours to end. So many students. Almost more people than I’d ever seen in one place. Sprawled out on the grass, draped across the stairs into the building, leaning against the walls. Some were talking in large groups, some were rifling through their bags, and some were on their phones, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. I fit into the third category. And I was effectively avoiding eye contact when a hand brushed against my shoulder.

My head jolted up to stare straight into the eyes of a girl with bright red hair and a galaxy of freckles across her nose. A gentle smile lit up her face. What stood out most, though, was the kindness in her eyes.

“You’re so cute!” She exclaimed.

My mouth opened and closed a few times. Never having been called cute before, I was dumbfounded. “Um, thanks.”

Unperturbed by my bafflement, she continued. “I’m Jasmine. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, hey. I’m Tess.” I replied.

She stepped backwards, clasping her hands in front of her. The movement made her pretty green skirt flutter. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone dress the way she did, old fashioned but cute. University students sure are impressive, I thought.

She looked me up and down. I really couldn’t tell what she was seeing that she was enjoying so much. I was dressed plainly. Black sneakers, comfortable. Blue jeans, comfortable. A shirt with a weird picture that I pulled out of my drawer, comfortable. There was no makeup on my face and my hair was down around my shoulders. “It’s really nice to meet you.” She emphasized. “You’re in Psych?”

“Yep.”

“Awesome! Me too! Ah,” Something caught her eye over my shoulder. “I’ve gotta run. Let’s sit together in class. Bye bye.” And with that, she ran off. My eyes followed her as she ran up to two other people. How on earth did she already have two friends? I barely had any acquaintances. The entire experience felt like a glimpse into a world I would never be part of.

Surely enough, we did not sit together in class. Nervously, I hung back until most of the crowd had filed in and then followed after. Most of the seats were taken by the time I got in, so I was stuck with a seat way in the back. It felt incredibly crowded, with what seemed like thousands of people below me, above me, all around me. I tried to ignore it.

Shutting out the world may be a good way to cope with situational anxiety, but it is not a great strategy for class. Thirty minutes into the hour-long lecture, I realized I had not absorbed a single word. From that point I struggled to keep my attention firmly forward, desperately ignoring the people around me. The sound of their pens scratching, their breathing, quiet murmurs between new friends. I felt like I was being watched, judged. These people could see right into me. They knew I had no friends. They knew I was alone.

Fifteen minutes before the end of this hell-hour, the lecturer called for us to stop. She was an eccentric-looking woman named Professor Johnson. Her hair was curly, and she dressed like a stylish teenager. “I know most of you don’t know each other yet,” she announced, “but I’d like for you to choose your class representative today. Does anyone volunteer?”

The hall was filled with silence for what felt like hours. Then, one hand went up. It was the girl that greeted me earlier. Jasmine.

Professor Johnson looked somewhat displeased. “No one else?” Silence. “Okay then. Even though we only have one applicant, we still need to follow formalities. Would you mind coming forward and saying a brief motivation for why you should be class rep?”

She was sitting in the third row, so it wasn’t hard for Jasmine to make her way to the front. My heart felt like it would explode on her behalf, being forced to speak in front of everyone on the first day. But she didn’t seem scared. She stepped forward and took a deep breath.

“Good morning. My name is Jasmine and I would like to be your class rep. I am familiar with the administrative procedures of the university and I feel comfortable acting as a mediator between you guys and our lecturers. Please rely on me.” She ended with a radiant smile, determination flowing from her body. It struck me then that she was very beautiful and, if I was a better person, I might want to be her friend.

The class applauded. The sound erupted all around me and there was no way I could filter it out. The acute awareness of the people around me, the knowledge that I could never be Jasmine’s friend, and the fear of the being a new student in a new and scary place filled me. I left the room before we were dismissed. I knew there was no way I could come back. I had to get out of this class.


My three knocks against the door reverberated in my brain. My movements felt slow and too real. My palms were sweating. It was hard to focus on the task ahead of me. I wanted to run away. It felt hard to hold onto my goal, the reason I was here in the first place. I was going to be a therapist. I was going to study for these years and learn Psychology. I will become a therapist and I will work with people struggling. I will work with people like me and I will help them, just like how therapists have helped me. I will work with people like me and I will not fail them in the way other therapists have failed me. I will help people. I will. But it was so scary.

Of course, the door opened. The curious face of my new lecturer peered out.

“Um, excuse me, Professor Johnson. I was wondering if I could speak to you about something?” My voice sounded too loud in my ears, but she only smiled.

“Sure. You’re a first year, right?” I nodded. “Come in, you can sit over there.” She gestured towards the corner of the room, where two couches were pushed against the world. It was strikingly similar to the way my past therapists arranged their rooms.

I chose a couch and sat down. She sat across from me.

“How are you finding the class?” She asked, leaning slightly forward.

“The, um, content has been interesting. But, what I’m here to talk about is, uh, the size of the class.” I paused. She nodded for me to continue. “My high school was pretty small. There were, like, fifteen people in my class.”

“So, this is a big adjustment for you.” Professor Johnson finished.

“Yeah. I’m overwhelmed. So, I was wondering if there was a way I could just do the readings online and maybe not go to the classes? I think that would be way easier for me.”

“Well, you definitely can’t do that.” She said. My heart dropped. My lifeline fell away from me. “But, I can organize for the class rep to sit with you and make sure you’re okay. How does that sound?”

The class rep? Jasmine? That girl who stood in front of all of us and spoke so bravely? That girl who greeted people she barely knew and laughed and looked so comfortable? That girl who is lightyears beyond me? I’d hate it. There’s no way I could talk to her. There’s no way she would want to talk to me.

“Um…” Was all I managed to say before Professor Johnson clasped her hands together.

“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll talk to Jasmine and arrange for her to sit with you. Also, try sitting in the front of the class so you can’t see so many people.” With that, she ushered me out the door. It’s not like I could have protested, though, even if given the chance.


For the second time, students were milling around the entrance to the lecture hall. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and fixed my eyes on the floor, willing myself not to run away. God I just wanted to run away. Maybe it would be better to just drop this class. it would be less mortifying, sure, but would it be worth it?

I was considering these options when I heard my name being called.

"Tess!" I forced myself not to flinch and looked up to see Jasmine walking towards me, waving. I don't think anyone has ever looked so happy to see me. Her enthusiasm somehow made me feel worse.

"Prof spoke to me yesterday and I'm so glad I get to sit with you! I'm sorry I didn't yesterday, even though I said I would, I feel really bad." She smiled apologetically.

"Don't worry about it." I replied. "You don't really have to sit with me today. I mean, I don't want to like impose or anything."

She grabbed my hand and looked at me fiercely. "No. I want to sit with you." She said. And that was the end of that.

We filed in when it was time for class to start. Remembering Professor Johnson's advice, I made sure to sit in front. Jasmine sat next to me.

"I'm so glad I got to be class rep." She averted her eyes for a second. "I hope we can be friends."

"Huh?" I was surprised. So even people like Jasmine worry about making friends. "We can definitely be friends."

Her face lit up and she kicked her feet excitedly under the table. In that moment, she reminded me of a little kid. "Yay. I'd be sad if you said no."

"Uh, yeah." I looked away. "Congrats on being class rep, by the way. It was cool that you offered."

"Aw, thanks. My sister studied here so I'm familiar with all the admin stuff, so I figured I'd try. It was a bit embarrassing being the only candidate though." She chuckled.

"No way! I thought it was really brave."

A slight blush spread on her cheeks. "Thanks." she said quietly.

The class started uneventfully. Sitting in front did make it easier. So did having Jasmine next to me. I felt comfortable.

Midway through, a debate started. A student sitting higher up said something dumb that set off other classmates. They had an angry exchange, going back and forth. The tension set into the room and I had to crane my head back to see what was going on. That was a mistake. The rows and rows of students looked more intimidating from the front, looming above me. They'd been able to see me for the entire class. To look at me. What if I'd done something weird? What if they spoke about me? Each mutter seemed louder and meaner. Nasty words swirled out of my head and into the mouths of my classmates. My shoulders tensed. I put my head down and closed my eyes.

Something warm touched me. Gently. Tentatively. Like I was a frightened animal. Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Jasmine's hand resting on mine. Without looking at her, I unclenched the fist I didn't realize I was making and let her hold my hand. I felt better. I felt warm. I felt like I could manage this.

After a few moments, I turned to look at her.

"You okay?" Jasmine asked quietly.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Want me to let go?"

I paused. Then I made a very important decision. "No." I said. "We can stay like this."

She chuckled lightly and lowly. "Okay."

The warmth continued to spread through my chest. I could make it through this class. I could do this. As long as I had Jasmine with me.