For all you Falls Church lifers, you remember Lou Lindsay as  that skinny, tall sixth grade boy with a buzzcut and circular glasses that took up most of his face. But the boy I interview now is soaring at 6’6” and wears clothes that don’t drape over his shoulders like curtains, as they did in middle school.

“When I first saw him this year, all I thought was ‘Damn, he’s giant,’ ” said senior Robert Tartt. “The only word I can think to describe him is giant.”

And that seems to be the only anecdote people know about Lou. He’s tall, he was here before, and he’s here now.

“It’s awkward because people say, ‘Oh my gosh, you were here in middle school!’ and I’d say, ‘Yeah I was!’ and then they’d say, ‘Yeah,’ or just nod and lose interest and the conversation would be over,” said Lindsay.

So Lindsay, an introvert, doesn’t press for further conversation and accepts the interaction for what it was- a superficial attempt at getting to know the new kid. The truth is, he’s comfortable being the recluse, the outsider, the lone wolf, and it culminates to form an air of mystery that surrounds Lou as he travels the world.

The other truth is that once you push past the smirk that says, “I don’t really care too much about anything,” is a depth of personality that gives cause to his casual outlook on life.

With both parents in the foreign service, it would have been impossible for Lindsay to stay in one place his entire high school life. Living in nine places for only 17 years requires this nonchalant attitude about friends, because he’ll simply leave in a few years. After all, he’s only in Falls Church for three months to finish senior year.

That’s my nightmare. My actual nightmare. Trying to make friends in three months while catching up to my new peers in all my classes? Kill me.

“I consider myself decent at readaptation,” said Lindsay. “It was weird coming back because I knew of everyone. I remember who my friends were when I was here years ago, but I think I’ve evolved enough to have a different sort of friends, but I’m still friendly with the old people. Every two years I can reset my social life.”

He’s content, waiting out his last few months making conversation in the senior alcove and in class, having no weekend plans, and blowing off a homework assignment because he’s a second semester senior.

Trying to imagine myself in the same situation gives me sweaty palms. There is so much anxiety coursing in my veins as Lindsay describes his after school routine. No plan? A nap after school? Blowing off homework?! How can someone be content by living with no goal, framework, or destination in mind?

“You have got to learn to relax,” Lindsay said to me, in response to my shaking hands, as if a simple sentence would subdue the rising stress levels.

All I can think of is, ‘I should have answered that last question on my science section of the ACT differently,’ while Lindsay shatters my world with his simple response to my interrogation about his biggest regret.

“I don’t have one,” said Lindsay. “I don’t live in the past. There’s no benefit, and it’s over anyways so why worry about it?”

And although it’s true, Lindsay certainly won’t be caught spending time on wishing he could have answered differently on a test, I’m a bit skeptical that Lindsay doesn’t wish to live in the past. Why? Because the past is Israel.

“There’s no beach here. It was two minutes away in Israel,” Lindsay said. “We would go there if we didn’t have anything after school, and do things I probably shouldn’t talk about,” he laughs, alluding to the fact that Israel doesn’t care too much about alcohol consumption with minors.

In Israel, Lindsay lost his nonchalant attitude about making friends and immersed himself into the social life at Walworth Barbour American International School. In middle school at MEH, Lindsay had worked with Jake Zigler on a FACS project and the two were reunited in Israel, where their friendship took root.

“I sort of took him under my wing at first when he got to Israel. I showed him around and everything. Soon after that, we just connected; started to hang on the weekends [and] played the same sports,” said Zigler.

Lindsay played varsity volleyball, basketball, and baseball at AIS, and, with Zigler, introduced the classic American varsity letterman jacket to his peers.

“The school in Israel didn’t have them, so Jake and I talked to the athletic director and we ordered 20 and sold them all. They were a big hit,” said Lindsay, who still sports the jacket in Mason’s halls.

In a country with over six million Jews, all of Lindsay’s school holidays aligned with Jewish holidays. Spring break aligns with Passover at AIS, and Lindsay would have had to take AP exams immediately following his return. On Yum Kippur, day of atonement, the town Lindsay lived in shuts down.

“No cars are allowed on the roads from Friday sundown to Saturday sundown. If you drive, you’ll get rocks thrown at your car,” said Lindsay. “Because I’m not Jewish and neither are some of my friends, we would ride our bikes on the empty highways.”

Luckily for Lindsay, Zigler will be returning to Falls Church this summer, although I doubt they will be able to take a stroll on 66. The two will be rooming together at JMU this fall, and when asked why he would want to attend JMU, Lindsay couldn’t muster up another reason aside from being with Zigler.

“I’d say in the relationship, he’s probably the girlfriend who I follow to college. He’s the one who likes High School Musical 3,” said Lindsay. “I mean it’s 60% girls, that’s definitely a motivation. It’ll be weird living in one place for four years.”

And that seems to be his only qualm with the school. Not that it’s college, or if he and Jake will hate living together, or if he may dislike the school, which is all that runs through my head when I think about college.

Sweaty palms again. Since Lindsay refuses to stress, I’ll do it for him. I get second hand anxiety from the fact that Lindsay simply isn’t freaking out…about anything.

But I know Lindsay’s palms aren’t sweating and they probably never have and never will. Lou Lindsay is calm, collected, and fearless about the path in front of him and has no problem with the unknown. In fact, he invites it.