Afraid of being confident

Crashing into.... (8)

8. Crashing into....

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Here's another part. Please tell me what you think!

My days have been..how can I describe them.. It's not that I'm depressed or easily sad but I'm cuddling myself into blankets like I want to disappear in my own room. I glance back over my shoulder when I walk. Walking is not the right word. Everytime I'm outside, I'm jogging, fleeing from someone I do not know or want to meet, but who keeps harassing me. I only exit my apartment to go to the most important lessons. Clare tries to walk to me as often as she can so that I don't have to be alone, which means that I sometimes have to wait in the library for an hour because she has one lesson left to attend. That wouldn't be such a problem, I'd grab my book and begin to read in silence in the library, where are enough people around me. I have my favorite spot on the upper floor of the University library, between bookshelf 'NOVELS' and bookshelf 'THRILLER'. You know, I like that spot because it's hidden and there are beanbags. When I plop myself into a beanbag of the library, then there are two typical things combined. Me in a library, which means that I'll read for hours without keeping track on time and me in a beanbag, which stands for not being able to stand up. Beanbags always embrace my body, not willing to let go when I want to stand up. If I do it's only to use the restrooms, to get a new book or to leave because it's not that easy to get up. To get up without looking funny or making a fool of yourself. Well, myself, because it seems like I'm the only person who found the beanbag and am having trouble with them. Anyways, I still love them.. until three days ago. The day everything changed again. I wont wait for Clare anymore..at least not in the library...my most loved place around here. My lessons were attended and over. Clare had one to go to and I went into the place, where people actually know my name because I'm one of them. Not exactly a nerd. I don't think I fit in that description, but yeah, we are alike I guess. Back to the story; I walked in, greeted some people I know and tried to hide myself in my favorite corner. I took my two books out of my bag and had to decide which one I wanted to read first. Book number one, from Brenda and deals about the topic self love. I think she wants me to read it so that I will become comfortable with myself or try to accept me for being me. That meant I had to think about me, my weight and all that stuff I wasn't in the mood to think about back then. I chose book number two, a book like Fifty Shades of Grey. Critics would say that it's a lame copy trying to be as famous as the one and only erotic novel..but I like it. I needed some hope of innocent people who fall head over heels in love with a stranger, a man who would never look at that wallflower in reality..but who cares. I forgot to say that these men are mostly rich and reeeeaaallyyy good looking. Hot, moth watering, muscular, masculine and..stop it, Leslie. Push these inappropriate thoughts away. You know that I chose the novel by now and that I was sitting in that comfortable bean bag, hidden. At least I thought I was hidden until my phone vibrated and I got a text:

"I never thought you'd be into these kind of stories, Les. Kinky" - Anonymous

Here he is again. I intend to think that Anonymous is a he. No girl writes like that and statistics say that it's mostly a male person that follows women. As you probably can suppose; my little hiding place wasn't my little hiding place anymore the moment I got that text. I tried to act cool and concentrated myself back on reading the story. The two protagonists have met each other a few pages back and ..my phone vibrated again.

"It's very risked to sit in a beanbag, wearing a skirt. I like how the purple color suits you."

I don't have to tell you that the message is from the same person as the first. I felt how my hands began to sweat and tried to look around. I needed to find out who was texting me. The few people I could see form sitting there where reading like me and not having their mobile phone near them. They weren't smirking or behaving like one of them could be the one I was looking for.