Dyadic Encounter

The prefix "dy-" means two, and encounter means a meeting. Two meeting.

"Let's bond," they told us. We were assigned partners, handed out lists of "conversation starters" and sent out into the field. My partner was sweet, slightly younger than I, and we sat across from each other bordering a patch of clovers. Absentmindedly and awkwardly, we both began plucking them from the ground, putting together sad little bouquets and avoiding eye contact.
Number 1: I am scared of... She chewed on her lip in a brief pause, and suddenly looked up at me. Her eyes locked on mine, caught in a sudden moment of clarity."Not being liked." I felt scared, shocked, suddenly uncomfortable and exposed, like this was too deep, too personal, too honest. What I'm scared of.

Afterwards, everyone gushed about their new best friends, having shared everything from birthdays to deep secrets. They talked about the meaning of life and everything in it. We scattered back into the dorms to change quickly. There, I paused, sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting behind as my roommate opened the door to leave.

"Did you talk about life?" My voice cut out through the thick silence. She paused.
"Yes. Did you?"
"No." I stumbled in uncertainty and took a deep breath. "I'm really bad at talking."
She turned, and put her bag down on a chair. She sat on the bed across from me. I don't know how, or why, but we talked, openly and honestly until time demanded that we leave, and even then, we shared stories, life, fears, beliefs, down the moonlit path.

At the social, there was Beatles music playing, milk, cookies, and board games. I was suddenly awash in homesickness, and comforted in a feeling of being at home in the same moment. I played Uno for the rest of the night, joking with the people that had finally started to feel like friends. That night belongs to us.