It was 10am and the coffee shop was uncomfortably crowded. Usually Richter was able to score an empty table and get some work done before class. Now it looked like sleeping thirty minutes past his alarm was going to throw his whole morning off. Currently the line was stretching out the door with students all clamoring for their lattés. Richter craned his neck, trying to see over the sea of people. He spotted an empty chair in the very corner of the café and made a beeline for it, dribbling coffee on himself in the process. It wasn’t until he sat down that he noticed the well-muscled red head sitting across from him.
***
He’s a little surprised when he realizes he’s not alone any more. The language tapes were helping but he had to keep his earphones in all the time. It has dulled his other senses. His seatmate smiles in a disarming fashion, his dark hair is wavy and unkempt. He’s spilt coffee on himself, brown fingers rubbing at the stain absently. Gaveedra looks at the other boy for several moments before he remembers to say hello.
***
The red head removes his earbuds, and nods at him. Says hello. He has some sort of accent that Richter can’t place. He looks down and spies a gym bag (not surprising with muscles like those) with a Calculus 1 book sticking out of it.

‘Um, you know, I’m in that class too’, he points his chin towards the book by the other boy’s feet. ‘I’ve never seen you before. Did you transfer?’

The red head nods again. Not much of a conversationalist.
***
He would like to converse with this boy but he cannot find the words. The language is too new. He holds out his hands in supplication.

‘I- my English is not…clear.’

‘Oh, man. I’ve been there. It’s OK. You’ll get it.’, the dark haired boy smiles at him again. It is a very nice smile.

His seatmate takes sip of his coffee and another drop lands on his shirt.

‘¡Mierda! I just washed this!’
***
The other boy is laughing- or Richter imagines he is. It’s less of a laugh and more of a deep rumbling sound.

‘Are you laughing at my expense, amigo?’

‘I am, hm, I am sorry.’, the red head forces a straight face.

‘I’m just teasin’ you. I’m Richter, by the way. Well, Julio, really. Richter’s my last name.’

‘Gaveedra’