ng our impressions of the experience – how unbelievable the lines were, what classes we were going to be taking, whether we had picked a major yet, and wondering how much longer it was going to take. During these early conversations, because they were a series of very short question and answer type talks alternating with long periods of silence while we watched other people, we didn’t talk too much about our personal lives. I almost forgot to even ask her for her name. I probably wouldn’t have remembered to ask except we discovered we would be in some of the same classes. That first day, as soon as we were finished with the whole registration process, we said goodbye and expected to see each other in class.
The next time I saw Patti was when we accidentally bumped into each other at the student bookstore. We were looking about the same as we had been in the registration lines – both of us looking sheepishly around trying to figure out just how we were supposed to know which books were the books we needed and where we might be able to find those fabled used books that were supposed to be so much less expensive than the new books. The sight of a familiar face, even one that was only vaguely familiar like Patti’s, was a welcome sign in an unfamiliar world. Together, we figured out how to learn which books were required and discovered that one of the most expensive books on our shared list only had one used copy left. The new books were twice as much and both of us were going to college on our own funding. We decided to be practical about the situation. We decided that we would both save money by splitting the cost of the one book and then sharing it through the semester. When we sold it back to the bookstore at the end of the semester, we would split whatever we sold it for. This conversation led to an exchange of addresses and we discovered that we didn’t live very far from each other, which meant that sharing the book would be even