Chapter 1: Preconceived Notion
By: Jenette Arreola
Tags: Spanish, Driving, Social Media, Date, College

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Carolina questioned. She strongly encouraged me to go on a date with Omar, a guy whose profile I came across online. I was hesitant; I wasn’t big on dating. Although I have never had a serious relationship, a handful of dates I have been on were awful, a complete waste of time.

I once went on a date with a high school crush. We were both attending East Carolina University at the time in the year 2013. I was a Freshman, and he was a Sophomore. We both graduated from James B. Hunt High school, where I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance in French class. Well, actually, we were ‘rivals’ at the time, both attempting to obtain the highest grade in the foreign-language course. However, I found him extremely attractive. He was Filipino, had dark complexion, wasn’t very tall- about 5'5, had short black hair and was athletic. He was member of the school’s JROTC and was highly intelligent, obtaining the highest numerical grade in various courses. This everyone knew as his accomplishments were announced at the end of the school year during the student awards ceremony. In fact, he was called down so many times, he began to jog to the stage to pick up his numerous certificates. I also found him interesting because he didn’t say much aloud, which stimulated my curiosity. I wanted to know who he was.



As desired, I was given this opportunity a few years later, shortly after adding him on my Facebook account. We chatted via Messenger where we agreed to meet for dinner at The Galley. The common area was found on the first floor of my residence, Jones Hall. He resided in Aycock Hall, which was renamed as Legacy Hall a few years later. This occurred as a consequence of having been named after a white supremest, the 50th governor of North Carolina, Charles B. Aycock. Several student groups on campus advocated for the name change, which occurred in 2016 (1).



Jules was aware I was a gym rat, and thus was health conscious. However, I wasn’t terribly strict with my diet as he was. He approached the table I picked out for us with sushi and a water bottle. I was about to devour a cheese burger along with some fries and orange juice, but seconds later, I lost my appetite.

“Wow, Jenette! Are you really going to eat that?”



Jules sat down across from me in the tall, rounded table of small circumference. “Come on now, I thought you were healthy? At this rate, you’re going to be rolling within months,” he mocked. He was making me feel awful, self-conscience. The comments weren’t the issue. What affected me was the source of the rude remarks. I was in denial and wanted to disappear that instant, craw under a rock until the coast was clear. After a minute or two of meaningless chat, Jules noticed I discontinued eating. “Are you going to finish that?” With a weak voice, I informed him I had lost my appetite. His final card? “I thought you were hungry? Well, in that case, I’ll walk with you to the elevators because I doubt you’ll be taking the stairs back up to your dorm room.” I bursted into tears the moment I entered my dorm room.



“Que es eso, corazón? Wear something more sexy, sassy! You need to wear something that will make him want to rip-off your clothes- not make him want to look away!” Carolina and I had been good friends since freshman year in college. She was the roommate to whom I vented the night Jules made me feel terrible about my meal of choice 6 years ago. “Que estupido! It’s ok, love. I hear Asians have small dicks. You dodged a bullet.” I admired Carolina’s courage who deceived others into believing she was brainless with her goofy and flirtatious personality. She was incredibly smart, self-secure and bold, and she struck anyone who made her acquaintance with her beauty and vivacity. I, on the other hand, wasn’t as outgoing. Contrary to how Carolina carried herself, always wearing striking outfits, I regularly wore comfortable jeans and t-shirts, and to social events, I’d dress rather modestly. Regardless of my attire, men seemed to want to speak with me wherever I went. Carolina and I both worked out in the early morning throughout the week. We both had great physiques.



I scanned my dresses and tops as I walked through my closet, hoping to find something both Carolina and I would agree on. What would she favor? She would definitely select a skin-tight garment, an outfit vivid in color which revealed practically all desirable attributes. Although it meant stepping out of my comfort zone, I suggested the sexiest dress that hung in my closet. It was a spaghetti-strap, knee-length, hunter green, silky polyester party dress with two high slits on both thigh edges. It was a gift on my 20th birthday from my aunt Sofia. She too encouraged me to show some skin now that I was young, before it’s too late: “Antes de que se te pase el tren!”

“Perfecto! Without doubt, he will be drooling the moment you sit across from him!” I love how excited Carolina would become whenever I was about to do something atypical of a good girl, something daring and reckless. I proceeded to getting dressed. I wore 3-inch, creme color heels, did my make-up (light-pink lipstick, mascara and eyeshadow), and I decided to rock a messy high ponytail with bangs. I also wore complementary, matching jewelry, a silver bracelet and necklace, the latter containing a simple, round green jewel in the center. The final touch? A few sprays of Dolce & Gabbana: Light Blue.

“O sea, wow! You look amazing! So where did you two agree to dine at?”

“I texted with him earlier today. He mentioned he favored seafood over everything else.” This was actually something we shared in common. Nothing satisfied my appetite more than grilled salmon, fried shrimp or crispy calamari. “He suggested Bonefish Grill by North Hills mall in Raleigh. I of course agreed.” Carolina was pleased. “Very nice! Did you mentioned you wanted to dance afterwards?” I was an excellent dancer, and in Raleigh, there were tons of top-notch Latino nightclubs I visited nearly every time I was in the area, which wasn’t too often. It’s the one scene for which I’d wear something low-cut. “You already know the answer to that one, mami!” Carolina and I squeezed each other goodbye, ascended our vehicles and left my apartment.

As I made my way to Raleigh, I developed both favorable and unfavorable possible scenarios for the evening’s date. What if he’s actually an older gentleman pretending to be a college student? Worse- what if he’s a psychopath, and I’ve fallen into his trap? What if he has a crazy ex that’s following him right this instant, ready to cause a scene during dinner? I haven’t been such a terrible person to deserve any of that, have I? Worst case scenario? He doesn’t show up at all.

Omar and I had been texting for nearly 3 months now. We met through Tinder. Carolina downloaded the app to my phone claiming it’d be fun, that I needed a hunk in my life to help alleviate the trauma I developed the past academic year. I was a rising 2nd year medical student, leaning towards cardiology. Although I performed academically well during undergraduate, the rigors of medical school had deranged me. Fortunately, it was summer time and was able to recharge before taking another beating.

“Hola, mujer! I will be arriving in about 20 minutes! I can’t wait to meet you. :)” Omar was a senior at NC State taking on engineering, a broad field I’m not remotely familiar with. However, I’m aware it’s quite challenging as it involves, “…the creating, destruction and reconstruction of a particular item/system,” so a friend of mine (an engineer) described it to be. Another mentioned it involves a ton of mathematics and requires great creativity, critical thinking (problem solving) and analyzation skills. This leads me to infer Omar has brains and patience! He’s a great texting buddy, has great conversation, is able to elaborate on any subject no matter how insignificant it may seem. If I begin to talk about scrap paper, he will carry on and topics will branch off that one, an ongoing process. He doesn’t annoy me with a ton of text messages every couple of hours, seems genuinely interested in me and my life, hasn’t asked me any inappropriate or sexual questions- and you know what? This all makes me apprehensive.

You have arrived at your destination.

(1) Wnctalenaoakes, W. (2016, February 19). ECU’s former Aycock Hall now named Legacy Hall. WNCT. Retrieved November 18, 2021, from https://www.wnct.com/news/ecus-former-aycock-hall-now-named-legacy-hall/.