Our story begins in September 2016, when I was in my second year at UC San Diego. I had transferred the year before and was double majoring in public health and psychology. By that point, I’d settled in a bit and was starting to feel more comfortable on campus.

That quarter, I enrolled in an eating disorders class — not exactly the most obvious place to meet someone, but it was a requirement for both of our majors. It was the first day of class, and for once, I was actually early — which is funny, because I’m usually the one rushing in late. Kevin, on the other hand, is normally the punctual one, but that day, he walked in just minutes before the lecture started. The massive hall was mostly empty, especially in the back where I was sitting, but for some reason, he made his way over and asked if the seat right next to me was taken.

I remember thinking, Of all the seats, is he really going to pick this one? I hope he’s not some creepy weirdo. But I said yes, because manners.

We actually didn’t talk much during that first class. He spent most of the time on his phone and laptop — texting or chatting. I wasn’t sure if he was taking notes, but the occasional chuckles and rapid typing made me think otherwise. Our class wasn’t that entertaining, so I had my doubts. It wasn’t until the professor asked us to partner up and discuss a topic that we finally had a real conversation. That’s when I found out his name was Kevin, that he was from Philly — and proudly from the hood, as he put it. We continued to chat during every class from then on.

Kevin had a habit of leaving class early, which, honestly, I understood. Three-hour lectures during dinnertime aren’t fun for anyone. I always wondered where he was off to, but I never asked. He always made it seem so important and urgent, I thought he had to go to work or take care of a relative or something. Come to find out, he was going to play basketball with friends and couldn’t be late!

At one point, he mentioned he was thinking about dropping the class because it wasn’t working with his schedule (now we know why! haha). I remember feeling a little sad at the thought of him not coming back. The next week, when he didn’t show up, I assumed he’d followed through and dropped the class. We hadn’t exchanged numbers or socials yet, so I figured that might’ve been the last time I’d see him. I was genuinely bummed.

But the following week, there he was, walking in like nothing had happened. After class, we kept chatting as we walked toward my car and I thought maybe — maybe — he was finally going to ask me to hang out.

He looked over and asked, “Did you eat dinner yet?”

I said, “Nope, not yet — you?”

He replied, “Yeah, me neither. Well, I gotta go. Gonna grab dinner with my aunt and unc. Bye!”

And just like that, he was off.

I walked to my car completely confused, replaying that 15-second conversation over and over in my head. That was not what I expected. I really thought he was about to ask me out. But then — bam! Plot twist. At that point, I honestly figured he probably wasn’t interested and maybe I should just move on.

But then the next day, I got a text — from Kevin. This time, instead of asking about dinner, he asked if I’d eaten lunch. Based on the night before, I braced myself for another brief, awkward exchange. I had already eaten a sandwich, but I was curious (and, okay, hopeful), so I texted back, “Not really, you?”

He said, “Yeah, me neither.”

I thought, Here we go again...

But then he followed it up with: “Wanna go to Tender Greens?”

I was shocked — and excited. It was actually happening.

We got to Tender Greens. He ordered enough food for a small army. I, on the other hand, just ordered a side of mashed potatoes. I was still really full from that sandwich, but I didn’t want to miss the chance to hang out with him.

That day, we talked for hours. Something clicked. I could tell he wasn’t just being friendly — he genuinely wanted to be there with me. A few more hangouts later, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Now, nearly a decade later, not much has changed. We’re still those same two weirdos: a little older, a little more grown up (ish), still joking about the mashed potatoes and the dinner-that-wasn’t.

Our relationship has always been a mix of awkward timing, missed signals, and lots of laughter — and honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

K&S

Wedding Day

Reception