The World According to Susie

Ch 13: A Secret Friendship

I spot Rina sitting at her desk, typing furiously on her laptop like she's hacking into the Pentagon. Naturally, I decide this is the perfect time to interrupt.

I grin like an idiot, waving obnoxiously, because subtlety is dead. "Riiiinnnaaaa!" I sing as I strut toward her, trying to appear nonchalant but clearly failing. The moment is about as smooth as a cat in roller skates.

As I take a seat beside her, my mind wanders—no, spirals—back to my encounter with Georgia. Every millisecond of it is replaying in my head like some emotional rom-com montage. The way her fingers brushed mine, her effortless cool-girl vibe, that short, curly blonde hair. I sigh. God, her eyes are like little galaxies. Can you fall into someone's brown eyes? Is that medically possible?

"Susie, are you even listening to me?" Rina's voice slices through my daydream, and then, THWAP—a pen smacks me straight in the cheek.

"Ahhh! Rina!" I rub my face, glaring at her in betrayal. Did she just try to assassinate me with a Bic? Is this how it ends for me?

"Look." Rina shoves her phone in my face, showing the group chat that I've been avoiding like it's cursed. It's mostly her and Celestine being petty with each other. Today's topic: The Trash Can Debacle.

"Celestine's totally ignoring her house duties just to piss me off," Rina grumbles, massaging her temple. "Like making out with another girl wasn't enough." Her eyes plead for reassurance, but I'm too lost in my Georgia haze to fully compute.

"Anywayssss~" I sing, totally changing the subject like the master of dodging responsibility I am, "I got Georgia's number... again." I flash my phone like it's a prized trophy.

Rina's face? Stone. Cold. She glances at my screen with all the enthusiasm of someone staring into the abyss. "Susie..." she deadpans, then looks back at me, her eyes devoid of any joy. It's like she's looking at me through a wall of disappointment.

"Um, yeah! I should probably text her back." I giggle nervously.

"Girl," Rina cuts through my joy like a hot knife through butter. "Georgia is bad news."

I try to brush her off, like, "I mean, do we really know that? I'm just texting her back! What's the harm in getting to know her better?" I hug my phone to my chest, staring at Georgia's last message like it's going to unlock the secrets of the universe.

Rina lets out a long, suffering sigh as the professor strolls in, ready to begin class. She neatly arranges her three pens by her laptop, pretending she's about to pay attention but secretly opening Depop. The vibe is "I'm listening to you but also shopping for vintage boots."

Meanwhile, I'm already plotting my next move. My fingers hover over the keyboard. I should definitely reply.

Ignoring Rina's warning, I type a quick "Hi :3" and, because I'm a total genius, I follow it up with a meme—one of those dumb low-poly cat pictures with some ridiculous text. Perfect. This will totally break the tension. (Is there tension? Better pre-emptively defuse it, just in case.)

I hit send, feeling accomplished.

Rina glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "Did you seriously just send her a meme?"

"What? It's quirky!" I say, already second-guessing my life choices.

She shakes her head. "Girl, if that's your version of flirting, we need to talk."

My phone vibrates, and my heart does that weird thing where it skips a beat—no, several beats. Like, is it possible to die from texting anxiety? Because I'm halfway there. I see the unknown number, but I already know who it is. Georgia. Of course, I haven't saved her contact yet because I'm apparently trying to keep the illusion of not being a total sap. But screw it—I add her name to my contacts before even reading the message. Priorities.