Liberate You, Liberate Me✔️

Chapter 11

11. Panic Attack

What the hell was going on with Dillon and why is he trying so hard to spend time with me? Ever since the first day I saw him he has been appearing in almost every place I have been to and now he doesn't even care to make it seem like coincidences. Yes, I had been surprised that his roommate had been my new student but I would never do anything with him – why would Dillon think that or let alone care?

I shouldn't be allowing him to keep me company on my way home and I definitely shouldn't be talking to him, or enjoy it slightly. I know who he is as a person, I've known who he's been since he was 16 years old, and so I know a lot better than to let him in to my life.

Oh and now he's looking at me like he just said something and I have no idea what he said. He knows I have been lost in my own mind for the last 2 minutes. I have to say something, do something or pretend as if I heard him. This is precisely why I don't do well in social situations, I daydream too much!

"Are you alright? You've been staring without blinking for the last 3 minutes." Dillon suppressed a smile while glancing at her and Libra felt her cheeks get warm.

Nothing that was happening now was making any sense to her but despite that she wasn't trying to get away from him. She was still on the fence about buying this 'second chance' speech that he kept throwing at her but for now she chose to keep that to herself and keep her guard up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What were you saying?" She pinched the bridge of her nose and ignored the tiny headache coming on. When she got in she'd have to call Dr. Fine and tell him about this – she had a feeling he would find this to be a positive thing.

"I was asking you what kind of book you'd like to write. You know, since you're in Creative Writing and all." Dillon scratched his neck and got a look of confusion on him.

Libra sighed and shook her head inwardly. Not once had anyone asked her that, not even her own mother, and not that she would've told anyone. She had worked on countless books but never been pleased enough to actually complete them, or have them published. She had been on too many 'how-to-write-your-first-novel' websites by now and had decided that she'd continue once she was sure she had a hit on her hands.

She had always been interested in true crime, mostly because of her father's death, but she hadn't really found her own style yet. When she was in high school all she ever wrote were teenage drama using her tragic high school life as the storyline of all of them but she wouldn't tell him that. Keep it as vague as possible.

"I'm not sure yet, I'm interested in a few different genres. I'm sure it'll come to me once we get more into the semester." She clung to her bag almost like a stress ball and let out a long breath once she finally saw The Arc.

"Funny enough I don't see Todd doing any sort of writing at all. Was he in your class that first day when we met in the café? You didn't say anything about it." He chuckled and their eyes locked for a second.

It had surprised her to see Todd in the library, too. He hadn't shown up in class until today and then in the library he had explained that he had applied on the first day, it was the only class left that he could pick for extra credits, and it hadn't gotten approved until today. She didn't have a reason not to believe him and especially since he had looked so unhappy throughout most of the studying time they'd had.