advent calendar fic: day 06
Go forward to later
The Good Wife | Alicia/Will | 706 words
Happy Holidays, thatandall!
By the time the first six weeks of the semester have passed, it will be difficult to remember a time when they couldn’t be seen together, laughing outside the law library or grabbing coffee between classes, but on the first day of Orientation, they are no more than two strangers who pass each other without taking note.
In fact, they miss each other completely at the introductory seminar, where he takes a seat in the back of the auditorium. He is preoccupied by recounting the finer details of his intramural baseball team’s last game to several friends when she chooses a nondescript seat in the middle. She is just another face in the crowd, another classmate to impress. If he had been told then how much that would change, he never would have believed it.
But every story has to start somewhere.
Theirs begins later that same night.
---
That August evening is hot and humid, perfect weather in which to host an orientation social at a swimming pool. He arrives early, straight from intramural practice with his friends in tow. He immediately takes off his t-shirt and heads straight for the water. When someone starts a contest to see whose cannonball makes the biggest splash, he is all too eager to join in.
He is suspended in mid air, knees tucked and head down in perfect form, when she passes through the wrought iron gates and onto the pool deck with her roommate, pausing as she prints her name on a name tag. He lands in the water with a resounding splash, dousing anyone in his general vicinity, and her first thought is relief that she’s at a safe enough distance that she doesn’t get hit with the spray.
Her roommate is not so lucky.
“That’s what you get for not wearing a name tag,” she teases, her face alight with laughter. She offers her spare towel as her roommate glowers good naturedly.
As his head breaks the surface of the water, he catches sight of them. The rest of his body is still submerged, so he is essentially hidden from view. He watches them for no more than a few seconds, captivated momentarily by her laughter, before going back to the game. Unofficial contest though it may be, he takes second place, just missing first by a narrow margin.
---
Later in the evening as the last rays of sunlight are disappearing in the horizon, they find themselves standing next to each other in the buffet line. Around them, classmates boast about the lines on their resumes or exchange horror stories from summer internships, but he isn’t interested in any of that right now. There will be plenty of time for that later.
She’s in line ahead of him, so he notices her first. He remembers seeing her earlier and decides to introduce himself.
“Hi,” he says, in that slightly formal, uncertain tone that is universally reserved for new classmates at orientation events.
Her head turns slowly when she realizes his greeting is meant for her. “Oh! Hi,” she recovers gracefully. The poise that will serve her so well in her future personal and professional life comes naturally to her even then.
The line ahead of her begins to move, and they both take a plate. While he takes a little bit of everything as they slowly inch down the buffet table, she only picks and chooses what she likes.
“I’m Will,” he says. They’ve reach the end of the table where the drinks are in coolers packed with brand new ice that has already started to melt. He bends down to grab a beer. “Will Gardner.”
The hint of a smile plays at her lips. “Alicia Cavanaugh.”
Someone sitting at the picnic tables calls her name, and she shrugs apologetically. “I should go.”
“You should,” he agrees, saluting her with his beer bottle. “See you around.”
With a wave and a nod of her head, she is gone.
It is not much of a beginning, but that hardly matters much in the bigger picture, where memories of this night are long forgotten until years later.
They become friends a week later, once classes start.
And the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
The Good Wife | Alicia/Will | 706 words
Happy Holidays, thatandall!
By the time the first six weeks of the semester have passed, it will be difficult to remember a time when they couldn’t be seen together, laughing outside the law library or grabbing coffee between classes, but on the first day of Orientation, they are no more than two strangers who pass each other without taking note.
In fact, they miss each other completely at the introductory seminar, where he takes a seat in the back of the auditorium. He is preoccupied by recounting the finer details of his intramural baseball team’s last game to several friends when she chooses a nondescript seat in the middle. She is just another face in the crowd, another classmate to impress. If he had been told then how much that would change, he never would have believed it.
But every story has to start somewhere.
Theirs begins later that same night.
---
That August evening is hot and humid, perfect weather in which to host an orientation social at a swimming pool. He arrives early, straight from intramural practice with his friends in tow. He immediately takes off his t-shirt and heads straight for the water. When someone starts a contest to see whose cannonball makes the biggest splash, he is all too eager to join in.
He is suspended in mid air, knees tucked and head down in perfect form, when she passes through the wrought iron gates and onto the pool deck with her roommate, pausing as she prints her name on a name tag. He lands in the water with a resounding splash, dousing anyone in his general vicinity, and her first thought is relief that she’s at a safe enough distance that she doesn’t get hit with the spray.
Her roommate is not so lucky.
“That’s what you get for not wearing a name tag,” she teases, her face alight with laughter. She offers her spare towel as her roommate glowers good naturedly.
As his head breaks the surface of the water, he catches sight of them. The rest of his body is still submerged, so he is essentially hidden from view. He watches them for no more than a few seconds, captivated momentarily by her laughter, before going back to the game. Unofficial contest though it may be, he takes second place, just missing first by a narrow margin.
---
Later in the evening as the last rays of sunlight are disappearing in the horizon, they find themselves standing next to each other in the buffet line. Around them, classmates boast about the lines on their resumes or exchange horror stories from summer internships, but he isn’t interested in any of that right now. There will be plenty of time for that later.
She’s in line ahead of him, so he notices her first. He remembers seeing her earlier and decides to introduce himself.
“Hi,” he says, in that slightly formal, uncertain tone that is universally reserved for new classmates at orientation events.
Her head turns slowly when she realizes his greeting is meant for her. “Oh! Hi,” she recovers gracefully. The poise that will serve her so well in her future personal and professional life comes naturally to her even then.
The line ahead of her begins to move, and they both take a plate. While he takes a little bit of everything as they slowly inch down the buffet table, she only picks and chooses what she likes.
“I’m Will,” he says. They’ve reach the end of the table where the drinks are in coolers packed with brand new ice that has already started to melt. He bends down to grab a beer. “Will Gardner.”
The hint of a smile plays at her lips. “Alicia Cavanaugh.”
Someone sitting at the picnic tables calls her name, and she shrugs apologetically. “I should go.”
“You should,” he agrees, saluting her with his beer bottle. “See you around.”
With a wave and a nod of her head, she is gone.
It is not much of a beginning, but that hardly matters much in the bigger picture, where memories of this night are long forgotten until years later.
They become friends a week later, once classes start.
And the rest, as the saying goes, is history.