by Romi Hart
Finally.
The beefy guy who’d been eyeing me walked into the same hallway and leaned up on the wall directly across from me. He stared right at me without any sense of self-awareness, or maybe he just didn’t care that he was so ridiculously obvious.
I continued to ignore him, angling myself so I didn’t have to look at him looking at me. I took my iPhone out and looked over the syllabus. The class, Microeconomic Analysis, was being taught by Hal Varian, the Chief Economist at Google. I was thrilled to be taking a class he was teaching. That was one of the major reasons I wanted to transfer to Berkeley was because of its proximity to Silicon Valley.
I would’ve loved to work for a startup. The tech world fascinated me from a business perspective. An innovative idea could fall flat if not managed and marketed correctly. Steve Jobs was an inspiration to me. I read his biography three times.
The class before mine streamed out of the auditorium door when the beefy guy approached me. “Hey, are you a junior transfer?”
I grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”
He flung his head back in a laugh; his long dark bangs swung out of his eyes. He had a nice laugh and was admittedly gorgeous now that I was actually looking at him. He had broad shoulders and was muscular with large dark, brooding eyes. "No. Not at all. It's just that the Haas is pretty tight-knit. I haven't seen you here before."
I edged my way into the auditorium, dodging the straggling students from the previous class who are still making their way out. The beefy guy grabbed my arm and lightly pulled me towards the back. “Come sit with me.” The smile that covered his plump lips was beckoning me to take him up on his offer.
But I wasn’t there to meet guys. I tugged my arm back from him. “Thanks, but I like to sit in the front.” I gave him a curt smile so as not to offend him, but I wasn’t going to be sidetracked by anyone.
He shrugged his wide shoulders as his gazed at me and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Okay, I’m Troy by the way.”
“Laney.” I started to walk away from him but stopped as I heard someone shouting.
"Brick House!" A broad-shouldered Latino guy yelled at Troy from the back of the auditorium.
Troy waved and smiled at him, and I looked at Troy in confusion. “Brick House?”
Troy shook his head sheepishly. “It’s my nickname. I’m captain of the wrestling team.”
A jock. Of course.
I walked away from him down the aisle. “I see.”
“Can I show you around sometime?” he called out after me.
Stopping, I turned around. “That’s really nice of you, Troy, but I’m okay. I worked really hard to transfer to this program, and I’m going to be studying a lot.” I felt it was best he knew I wasn’t playing hard to get, I was on a mission and boys weren’t a part of it.
“Okay. Maybe we can study together then?” Troy was persistent. I had to give him that. From the looks of him, he could probably get any girl he wanted. But he seemed to want me. That would leave him very disappointed.
I decided not to dash the guy’s hopes altogether. “Maybe. We’ll see. Thanks.” I continued down the aisle and took a seat in the front row. A few minutes later, Professor Varian arrived.
Troy might’ve been a nice guy. Although, he was a jock so maybe not, but I was so focused on doing well in school that I couldn’t afford to find out much about him.
When class was over, I looked at my map of the Haas buildings to figure out where my next class, Competitive Strategy, was. Troy sidled up next to me. He really wasn’t one for giving up easily. “You have another class right after this one?”
Putting down the map, I knew I had an even better way to find my next class, thanks to Troy’s avid attention. “I do. It’s Competitive Strategy.”
Troy’s eyes lit up. “I have that class too. I’ll walk you. You can put your map away.” The grin he wore told me he thought he’d achieved some big step with me. A thing I found funny.
Jock or not, he’d be useful for directions, at the very least. “Great. Thanks,” I said to him trying to sound grateful, but not too grateful to give him any ideas.
Walking next to me, Troy was fiddling with the loops of his backpack. “Do you have plans for lunch after this class?”
Thinking quick, I came up with something, “I have a study date.”
His face fell, making me feel a bit bad for what I’d said. “Really?”
I decided to lighten up a bit. “Yup. With myself. I packed an impressive peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple that I plan to eat on Sproul Plaza while I study.”
The jock looked confused as he wore a puzzled expression. “Study? It’s only the first day of class.”
With a grin, I shrugged. “Exactly. I don’t want to fall behind before we have even really started.”
We had made it to the next classroom and Troy politely stepped aside to let me walk in first. For a jock, he, at least, had manners. “Do you want a study buddy while you eat?”
He was persistent, but I was not about to be derailed. “Not today. Thanks.”
As I walked in, a guy with wavy blonde hair that hung to his shoulders caught my eye. He was standing around with some equally broad shouldered dudes. One of the guys said something making all of them laugh including the dreamy blonde guy. I made brief eye contact with his gorgeous sky blue eyes before I looked away embarrassed.
Troy stood next to me. For a second, the two men regarded each other without saying anything. Troy’s face screwed up into revulsion while the blonde guy’s beautiful blue eyes narrowed dismissively.
Troy leaned down, his lips far too close to my ear. “Stay away from that guy. He’s bad news. He only has one thing on his mind… As much ass as he can get.”
As Troy told me that important tidbit of information, the gorgeous guy looked at me again and smiled. His smile made me melt inside. I tried to keep my cool, but I could feel sweat prickling on the back of my neck. “Is that so?”
Troy’s mouth was still too close as he went on, “He’s the quarterback. Trust me. He plows anything with a pulse.”
Even though I had just been strongly cautioned about the hot guy who was smiling at me, I smiled back at the quarterback before I knew I was doing it. I covered my mouth with my hand, but couldn’t stop smiling. He was just too beautiful in that All American way.
Troy was probably right about the quarterback guy, but honestly Troy was probably after as much ass as he could get too.
Troy tried to lead me to back of the classroom, but I jerked my head to the front. “That’s right, you’re a front row girl.”
Heading up to the front of the class, I left Troy to his back row. “Yup, I always have been.”
I took a seat in the middle of the front row. Oliver Williamson, who had won the 2009 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences, taught the class. Professor Williamson won the Nobel for developing a theory where business firms served as structures for conflict resolution.
I looked over the syllabus of the class: ‘Using the basic tools of game theory, we will perform analysis on how businesses choose strategies to attain competitive advantage.’
Game theory was the study of human conflict and cooperation within a competitive situation. It was mostly used in economics, political science, and business but had been applied to logic, computer science, and biology.
I thought of the two guys who were sitting behind me. One was the captain of the wrestling team, and the other was the quarterback of the football team. Both were ridiculously gorgeous. I wondered if the game theory had ever been applied to love and romance.
Professor Williamson entered the classroom. I pushed away my thoughts of the guys and romance and took out my notebook and pen. I was there to learn after all. Guys come and go, but my education would stay with me forever.
Jett
I had never seen her before, which was one of the reasons why she caught my eye when she walked into Competitive Strategy. The other reason was she was insanel
y beautiful. A rocking body with curves for days, she had pretty hazel eyes and long blonde curly hair. Her hair was up in a ponytail. I wondered what she looked like when it was all down, flowing around her narrow shoulders.
I bet her hair smells good too.
She seemed like the kind of girl who had hair that smelled like flowers and strawberries.
I tried to focus on Professor Williamson. I was stoked to be taking a class of his. He was the man who had developed the idea of information impactedness, which was a condition that occurred when a buyer and seller had knowledge of private information when they took part in complex contracting. Information impactedness was relevant to information asymmetry, where the distribution of information in the marketplace was uneven.
I had been thinking a lot about transactions and contracts since I hoped to be drafted into the NFL. I understood the importance of receiving a solid education. My professional football career would end one day or, God forbid, never start for some reason.
I listened to Williamson, but kept my eye on the new girl. It was hard not to since she was sitting in the front row. Her blonde ponytail was a beacon. I couldn’t keep looking at the back of her head. She was with Brick House of all people when she walked in.
How are they friends? How did he even get to her so quickly?
It was the first day of the semester after all.
I’ve got to stop thinking about this girl and pay attention.
Brick House was such an asshole though. I would’ve hated to see such a beautiful girl with that prick.
Williamson wrote on the chalkboard as he began to speak, “What is strategy? This week, we will look at the different ways to determine the best or dominant strategy. We will review basic concepts of game theory, but I assume most of you should already be familiar with the game theory fundamentals. We will also discuss Nash Equilibrium and Prisoners’ Dilemma, concepts that you should also be well versed with. If not, please do your own research to get up to speed with the rest of the class.”
It was hard not to immediately think of football when talking about strategy. I read an article in ‘The Economist’ after the Seattle Seahawks lost the Super Bowl in 2015 defending Pete Carroll’s decision to run the pass play that inevitably cost them the championship. Proper application of game theory and serious number crunching supported Carroll’s decision despite thousands of critics who called his decision the worst play call in Super Bowl history.
After Williamson’s class, I hung back a bit to let the new girl get in front of me. I was not being a stalker. I just wanted to see where she was going. I knew that probably sounded like something a stalker would say. But I was just being curious, not out to spy on her or anything weird like that. She just kept drawing my attention without even trying to. I couldn’t seem to help myself.
Out of nowhere, Brick House snaked in beside her.
Dammit, I hate that guy.
I could hear what they are saying. “You still studying for lunch?” Troy asked her.
The new girl smiled politely. “Yup. I’m still sticking to my lunch plans.”
“Still don’t want any company?” Troy persisted.
“I’m good. Thanks for the offer again, Troy, but like I said before, I prefer to eat alone today.” She let him down easy, but her voice was undeniably firm in her rejection.
I wanted to jump up and down and cheer. Instead, I held in my excitement and hung back a bit behind some other students as I followed them.
Troy looked clearly disappointed, but said, “Okay. Hopefully, next time right?”
How pathetic! Give up, dude! She isn’t into you.
The new girl smiled at him and kept walking. Troy took off to the right towards the Bancroft Library. He looked back at her dejected. I would’ve felt sorry for the dude but found not an ounce of pity for him at all.
I slyly caught up to the new girl. “Hi.” I was being nonchalant like I’d barely seen her.
She looked over at me. “Hi.” She crossed her arms in front of her and kept walking.
I thought she must be shy. That had to be why she was trying to close herself off to me. “I’m Jett. We have Competitive Strategy together.” I hooked a thumb back in the direction of Haas. I wasn’t sure why I did that. She obviously knew where our class was. The girl did something to me, somehow, that others hadn’t. I felt a little out of my element with her. It was oddly intriguing though.
“I’m Laney. Yeah, I think I saw you in there.” She admitted she saw me. That had to be a good sign.
I notice a slight southern twang to her sweet voice. “Where are you from?”
The slightest smile curved her pink lips. “Gainesville, Florida. I transferred from the University of Florida.”
She was talking pretty freely with me which had my heart pumping harder. “The Gators. That’s awesome. What did you think of Competitive Strategy?”
She lit up like a Christmas tree as her body language changed and she dropped her crossed arms. “Professor Williamson is amazing. Are you familiar with information impactedness?”
She was smart as well as beautiful. “Yes, I am. He addresses uncertainty and opportunism with his concept.”
Her smile broadened, I could see her white, perfectly straight teeth. “I’ve thought a lot about information asymmetry in general. If you think about it, lack of information can affect market transactions but also everyday decisions and behavior in regards to health, entertainment, and education. You know all kinds of choices can be impacted.”
I moved along with her to a picnic table. “I do that a lot too. I take the stuff I learn in my business classes and think about it in other contexts.”
We took seats on opposite sides of the small table, and she opened a brown paper bag she had fished out of her backpack, taking out a sandwich. “Like what other contexts?”
She was allowing me to have lunch with her after she had flat out denied Brick House. I was in, and he was out, anyone could see that. “Well, I want to play in the NFL, right? Which will require a contract, a transaction between the NFL team and me, but in this transaction, there might be an information imbalance on both sides. I might not know something about the team. They might not know something about me.”
“But there are ways to circumvent the imbalance,” she interjected, smartly.
“Exactly.” I was impressed with her sharp mind. The girl seemed to have it all; brains and beauty.
She split her sandwich in half, handing half to me. “All I have is peanut butter and jelly.”
I took the sandwich from her. Our fingertips touched a tiny bit, and sparks shot through mine. “My favorite. Thank you.” I moved off the seat, hopping up from the table. “I’m going to go grab a water. You want one?”
She looked at me with that beautiful smile. “Yes, please.”
I jogged to a nearby vending machine and got out two water bottles. I thought it was going pretty well so far with Laney. She was super easy to talk to. After jogging back to the picnic table, I sat down opposite her once again and handed her a water. “Thank you. You were saying about information imbalance?” she asked opening up the bottle and taking a sip.
Wow. She actually wanted to keep talking. This girl was so cool. “So to correct the information balance, you can use a third party to mediate. In my case, I would use --”
“An agent,” she answered quickly.
“Right.” I took a bite of the sandwich, pleasantly surprised by how sharp she was. “I love business just as much as I love football. I mean, I need to have something to fall back on when my football career is over.”
“You’re the most intellectual jock I’ve ever met. But, honestly, I’ve never been one to talk to jocks that much.” She took a bite of her sandwich.
I raised my water bottle up. “I feel honored, Laney. This calls for a toast.” She laughed lightly as she touched her water bottle to mine. I noticed she was much more relaxed than when we first started talking. I even got her to laugh at my dumb antics. So
I went for it. “Are you going to the game on Saturday? We’re playing against UCLA.”
A frown made creases between her perfect brows. “Sports aren’t really my thing.”
I wasn’t really shocked, she had said she didn’t talk to jocks much. But I feigned it, “What? Coming from such a huge football school like Florida, I pegged you for a gigantic football fanatic.”
She smiled after taking a drink. “I know right? The Florida Gators. UF loves their football.”
I was puzzled. “But not you?”
Her eyes cast down as she looked at what was left of her half of the sandwich. “Not really. I haven’t been to a single football game in my life.”
I had to show her what she’d been missing. It was criminal that she went to not one but two colleges with badass teams and was missing out on the total experience. “Okay. I get it, you don’t like sports, but a Cal game is so much more than just a football game. It’s about the entire college experience. You didn’t come all the way out here to not experience Berkeley in its entirety did you?” I raised my arms up to gesture all around us. “Look around. There is so much here for you to experience.”
She laughed at me. I loved hearing her laugh. “You might have a point.” She rested her head on the palm of her hand, looking at me amused.
I smiled at her. It was then I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling since we had started talking. My cheeks were sore. I couldn’t help it. She was adorable. “If you go, I promise I’ll score a touchdown for you.”
“For little ol’ me?” she said, putting a hand on her chest. Even when she mocked me, she was pretty.
“Oh yes. For you and only you.” I opened my wallet and took out a ticket for a front row seat in Memorial Stadium. I placed the ticket in front of her with an exaggerated flair. “This seat is in the front row. I’ll be able to see you from the field.” She just looked at the ticket. I tried to not come off as needy or pushy, but added, “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
“Isn’t there anyone else more important you want to give this ticket to?” she asked still looking at the ticket cautiously.