You're Heidi, right? She nodded and gave me a cautious smile as I singled her out of the crowd of students leaving the classroom. I'm a homid. I sit behind you. What's up? She said in a casual manner. All of a sudden I wasn't prepared. Five years of studying and learning. And now I didn't have anything to say. The words were locked up inside me. I fumbled for a key but couldn't find one. Instead I tried to pick the lock with the closest object I could find. It's a really cool necklace. Where'd you get it? Thanks, she said softly. She made a motion to cover it but then her hand backed away. It's the goddess Isis. My mom got it for me in Egypt. Her feronic charm had been working on me even before she opened her lips. I didn't know what ancient Egyptian gods she had dangling from her neck but the shy downward gazing statue on that neck guided me. Like a pair of wings. Her hands were right to be cautious. I was trying to read her and translate my feelings into meaning. That's cool. I said I wanted to know where she came from. I was trying not to trip over myself and blurred out the question. So what did your mom like? You know, best about it. She knew I liked ancient Egypt. But what did she like about Egypt? Did she go for the pyramids or the mosques? What are you talking about? She wasn't a tourist. We're from Egypt. You idiot. I said to myself, here I am outside of a class on Middle East history. And I'm acting like I don't know where the brown skin curly headed girl with the Isis necklaces from. I had to play it off. No way. That's so cool. Where are you from in Egypt? Cairo, she said blankly. Yeah, but where in Cairo? You, no Cairo. I know enough to get lost. Wait a minute. That sounded better in my head than on my lips. It's technically outside of Cairo. You wouldn't know it. I thought I must be doing something right. She's still talking. Try me. Maria Teja. She's the name of the Canal Street rolled off her tongue in perfect Egyptian Arabic. She was legit. Maria Teja, I said as I struggled with the Arabic pronunciation, that's where I was the summer. My uncle lives on that street. You lived on Maria Teja Street? It's true. He lives next to the mosque on the wet side of this road and next to the KFC parking lot. 500 feet from Facel Street. Impressive. I gave her my phone number and said we should hang out for coffee sometime. Sounds great. She said as she knelt down to get something out of her backpack. To my surprise, she tore the corner off of a page of her notebook, wrote her number down and gave it to me.