First Meet with My Classmate Girlfriend

I never thought the most important part of my semester would begin with a group assignment. Usually, those were the things you dreaded—poor communication, last-minute slides, someone always disappearing. But this time, the professor paired me with a girl I hadn’t talked to before.

Her name was Meher. I’d seen her in class, of course. She always sat in the second row, usually on the left side, with her hair in a loose ponytail and her face mostly hidden behind oversized glasses. She was the quiet type, neat and organized, and always on time.

I was the opposite—more relaxed, sometimes late, and definitely not as meticulous. So, when we were grouped together, I expected it to be awkward.

But the first time we met in the library to discuss our topic, something shifted.

She smiled softly as I approached. “You’re Arman, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “And you’re Meher?”

She nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s pick something simple. I hate dragging projects for weeks.”

That made me laugh. “You’re already speaking my language.”

We chose a topic quickly—something on social behavior trends—and decided to split the work evenly. But what surprised me was how easily the conversation flowed afterward. We started talking about movies, then music, and somehow ended up sharing favorite childhood snacks.

I remember walking out of the library that day thinking, She’s… interesting. Not in the usual way. She wasn’t loud, she didn’t try to impress anyone. But something about her calmness made me want to know more.

Over the next few days, we kept meeting. Sometimes for the project, sometimes just because. I noticed things—how she tapped her pen when she was thinking, how she hummed quietly while reading, how she paused before laughing like she was making sure it was okay to let the sound out.

I found myself waiting for her messages. She’d text late at night, things like “I rewrote the intro paragraph. See if it works better?” followed by “Also, have you tried the new iced mocha in the canteen? Life-changing.”

One Friday, I invited her for a coffee break after class. She hesitated at first but eventually said yes. We sat on the stone bench outside the cafeteria, watching students pass by as we sipped our drinks.

“I usually don’t do this,” she said suddenly.

“Do what?”

“Get close to people so quickly.”

I looked at her. “Is that what we’re doing?”

She laughed, that soft laugh again. “Maybe.”

That “maybe” stayed in my mind for the rest of the day.

After we submitted our project, we could’ve just gone back to being classmates. But we didn’t. We kept talking, kept meeting, kept finding excuses to be around each other. I started saving her a seat in class. She started bringing me small things—my favorite snack, extra notes, a pen I once mentioned I liked.

One day, we bumped into each other near the parking lot. I was in a rush, but she looked like she wanted to say something.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She hesitated, then said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

I checked my watch. “Sure.”

We walked aimlessly around campus, talking about the weather, then books, then fears. She told me she hated thunderstorms. I told her I used to be scared of elevators.

She looked at me sideways and said, “You’re not what I expected.”

“Good or bad?”

She smiled. “Good. Definitely good.”

It wasn’t a confession, but it was something. And it meant more than I realized.

A week later, after class, she texted me: “Library in ten?”

I met her there. She was already seated at our usual table.

“I have something to say,” she said without looking up.

My heart thudded.

“I think I like you,” she said. “Not just as a classmate. Not just because we worked well on the project. I just… like being around you. A lot.”

I sat down slowly, unsure if I was dreaming.

“I like you too,” I replied.

She looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

“Really,” I said. “You’re the calm to my chaos.”

That day, we didn’t call it love. We didn’t say big words. But everything changed.

We started calling each other more. Taking longer walks. Spending weekends preparing for mock interviews just to have an excuse to hang out. Our classmates began to notice. Some teased us. Others smiled knowingly. But we didn’t care.

We weren’t perfect. I forgot plans once, and she got upset. She got distant during exams, and I overthought. But we always talked it out. Always came back.

She never demanded flowers or expensive dates. But she appreciated handwritten notes, shared playlists, or just me sitting beside her when she studied late.

One evening, while watching the sunset from the rooftop, I finally said it.

“I love you.”

She didn’t say it back immediately. She just rested her head on my shoulder.

A few seconds later, she whispered, “I love you too.”

Now, whenever people ask me how we met, I smile and say, “Over a boring group project.”

But it wasn’t boring at all. It was the beginning of everything.


---

Have you ever fallen for someone unexpectedly—maybe even a classmate you barely noticed at first? How did your first meeting turn into something more? Share your story with us. Sometimes love hides behind the most ordinary moments.

Note:
This story was created with the assistance of AI (ChatGPT), then manually edited for originality, accuracy, and alignment with Vocal Media’s guidelines.