I went to have lunch in the cafeteria that day before rehearsal.  There he was.  I went to him, boldly, I strided forth with doubtless conviction and proceeded to sit right down next to him.  At the table we were surrounded by mutual acquaintances who eventually seemed to fade out of focus.  He was having French fries, and I requested to have a taste of one.  He shared graciously, and we opened up to our first real conversation.  I loved the way he spoke.  Charmingly, a rugged English accented by cool French tones.  I forgot what we spoke about.  Something unimportant like school or studying.  It doesn't matter what we spoke of.  His voice was a stimulating entrancing mystical something that I will always remember the vibration of whilst ringing through my ears.  Oh how beautiful the mysterious dark look in his powerfully depthual eyes that seemed to taunt me.  "You must teach me to speak French."  I demanded.