Years ago.... -Oh, hell, how lucky for me... -What? - I asked. I shooed a persistent, brave wasp away from my Coke can. Alison shielded her face with her hand in a way that made her look even more conspicuous. -Professor McDonald. Do you know who is? The Egghead McMuffin. I owed him a paper on the Beatles a week ago. He saw me? I looked straight ahead. Across the lawn covered in afternoon sunlight, the professor had stopped and was pointing his finger as if to imitate Lord Kitchener, even moving his lips without making a sound, seeming to say the word "YOU." -Um... Yes. Alison peeked between her fingers and looked at me. -Maybe yes or of course yes? -Yes like a Scottish missile with the perfect aim to hit you in the middle of the forehead. Yup. -Okay, OK, think, think... Alison muttered, looking up at the treetop we were in the shade. -Are you going to try to climb the tree? Because Professor McDonald seems like the kind of guy who would wait for the fire department to arrive. Alison looked around, lingering over the leftovers of our lunch and our backpacks on the floor, as if inside them there was an answer. I didn't believe a college girl would get away by burying her face in a backpack. And then she looked at my right hand. -Can I borrow your ring? -Of course. But he is not magic. I took it off and handed it over. -Stand up. -Hello? - Stand up. I stood up, brushing the grass out of my jeans. Alison balanced on one knee and held up the piece of Gothic jewelry I'd bought for four pounds at the student fair. I started to laugh. -Ah... you idiot... Professor McDonald approached. -Alison Dilaurenttis...! -Sorry Professor, but I'm in the middle of a very important event here. She turned to me. -Emily Fields, I know we are 20 years old and the timing of this request may have been brought forward due to... external pressures. But regardless, you are wonderful. I'm sure I'll never meet a woman I care about as much as I care about you. This feeling just keeps growing... Professor McDonald crossed his arms, but, as unbelievable as it is, he was smiling. Alison triumphed again. -Are you sure this feeling isn't revenge on the corn tortilla and sausage you and Jason made last night? - I asked. -No! My God... You conquered me. It's my head, my heart, my feelings... -Calm down, young lady, I wouldn't detail the list so much. - said Professor McDonald - The weight of history is on you. Think of the legacy. It is necessary to inspire. -Thank you, teacher. "You don't need a wife, you need medicine to stop the diarrhea," I said. -I need you. What do you say? Marry me. A simple ceremony. And you can move into my room. I have an inflatable mattress and a stained towel that I can fold up and use as a pillow. And Jason is perfecting a recipe for boiled potatoes in canned tomato soup. -What an amazing proposal, Alison, but no thanks. Alison turned to Professor McDonald. -I'll need a license.