The Sterling Theory

2

It was during freshman year that I noticed how girls hated the status quo.

Nobody wanted to stay in a table full of females wearing the same shoes or the same length of skirts. Sure it worked in movies, but here? Everybody wanted to be unique, it was stupid.

Sure you're unique.

Just like any other kid fresh from middle school.

The school representatives who talked like it was summer camp on the first day were lying when they told me I was going to make new friends.

Not that I was making any effort.

In fact, the closest person I ever considered as a friend was Goth Gillian.

She didn't talk much. In fact, she never talked at all. She was asked to stand during the whole period of history class because she refused to answer a question about who killed Napoleon.

We became friends because of the amount of time we both spent in the library.

Even then, she never uttered a word. Just flipped through some random book while sighing every thirty seconds. I didn't mind her sitting at the same table with me.

Or how the colors of her clothing varied from gray to coal black. In return, she never complained about how I tapped my fingers while I read.

Just like how good friends should be.

'I swear Gary, you're going to end up married to a block of wood.'

That's the only remark my sister kept blabbering about whenever she asked about my so-called love life.

Or my lack of it.

I was stuffing my notebooks inside my bag when I felt someone's presence behind my back. I was usually the last one out, so it was a surprise to see the new girl just standing there.

Smiling, she offered her hand.

'Hi.'