The Truth About Friendships

2. Meeting the Devil

In comparison to Mrs. Smith's class, my second class felt like heaven. It was time for my painting class. Mr. Broderick, the professor there, was chill. He clearly cares more about his students than he does about his job.

And, of course, the final class is always the most boring. Ms. Clyde is also nice, but I can't stand hearing her talk all year. I'm glad I didn't have her class every day.

It was around 3 p.m. after I finished all of my courses. That isn't too bad. Given that I begin class at 11 a.m. I haven't spoken or interacted with a single student yet, which disappoints me. Was I going to be alone here forever? What if my roommate and I grow to despise each other? I'm tired of pleading with Gabriel to come over.

I've always struggled with making new friends. Getting to know new people. At times like that, I experience a tremendous amount of anxiety and fear. I was always a little socially awkward as a kid. I never knew what to say to people, and when I did, they thought I was a fucking maniac. That's why I say Gabriel is the only person who understands me. Despite knowing me, he chooses to stay and remains my best friend.

I took out my phone to look through my notes to avoid these unnecessary thoughts about my year. There was something I had to do...

GET THE INTERIOR BOOK!!!

Right. The first thing I needed to do was go to the library and get this book for Mrs. Smith's class.

That bitch.

After thirty minutes of searching, I dashed to the school's library, which, I must admit, was quite large.

"Can you tell me where I can find the interior books?" I asked the librarian stationed at the front desk.

"Of course. It's in that section over there." She motioned to the back aisle.

"Thank you." I smiled as I walked in that direction.

I noticed various people sitting on the ground or at tables, reading or talking on their phones. The more I looked around, the more I fell in love with the atmosphere of this school. I traced my fingers across the book labels, looking for the one I needed.

"Interior... interior..." I checked the top of the shelf to see if the faint label was on a book.

Why does it have to be at the top? But it appeared to be the last of those books. I'm not sure if I was lucky or if my spirit guides were watching out for me this time. I looked around the aisle for stools, but there were none. I stretched myself by standing on the tips of my toes because I had no other option. So far, the luckiest I've had is touching the edge of the book.

I was almost there... Now I stretch both of my arms. I managed to pinch the book's side with my two fingers. I wanted to cry a tear of joy. Then I felt a presence hovering over me. Someone had approached me from behind. Someone taller. I became frozen. I didn't care how unsettled I was. My tension was relieved when I saw their arm reach for the book I was holding. Oh, how sweet. I assumed they were assisting me.

I turned around to retrieve the book, and they pulled it out.

"Thank you so much—" I was about to say when I noticed the person was already walking out of the aisle.

What?

"Excuse me?" I yelled for them. I followed this person to another aisle where they had made a quick turn.

They were unusually tall, I noticed. Their long legs made catching up impossible. I jog a little bit to get closer to them.

"Hello! Excuse me!" I cleared my throat and spoke a little louder to allow them to turn around.