Chapter Text
Troy was in the library, feeling sour to the core. It was a Friday, after-school, and he should have been playing video games on the couch. There was an Xbox at home with his name on it, but here he was in the nonfiction section looking for a copy of Spanish For Dummies - not the most customer friendly name, he thought - and wishing his textbook hadn’t gone missing. He’d thought about borrowing a copy from someone in the study group, but nobody was willing to part with their ticket to a passing grade. He thought he’d have better luck with Annie, since she actually took enough notes to serve as substitutes, but she’d said something about needing to brush up on past-tense verbs before walking away with a sheepish smile. Lousy, but what could he do?
The nonfiction wing wasn’t particularly large, so Troy was able to find the foreign language shelf pretty quickly. Let’s see, Serbian, Slovak…
Huh. No copy of Spanish For Dummies could be seen, as could any other book on the subject. Troy skimmed each shelf just to be sure, even ones where it would have no sensible reason to be in the hopes that it had been misplaced by some absent minded staff member, which weren’t in any shortage at Greendale.
C’mon, it’s the most common language in the world! Or is that Mandarin? Geez…
“Are you looking for the Spanish book?”
Troy turned his head, somewhat startled in such a previously silent library. Just on the other end of the bookcase, someone was standing with their back to Troy. The figure had their hair covered with some type of headscarf, so they were probably a girl. And her head was bent slightly. Like she was reading something. Troy raised an eyebrow and walked over.
“Do you have it?”
As a kid, Troy was told not to touch people to get their attention. But the image of a big red F minus was growing in the back of his mind, so he couldn’t really be expected to remember such things. He put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, and saw her flinch slightly before turning around. Troy stepped back.
The deepest pair of eyes he’d ever seen were staring right at him. Troy had seen pretty eyes before, in magazines, TV, and even real life, but something about this girl was almost startling. Fitting, since she looked somewhat alerted herself. Like a gentle doe hearing a strange sound in the forest.
After a moment of letting his mouth hang slightly slack - and probably looking like a total doofus in the process - Troy’s eyes darted to the book in the girl’s hands. Bingo.
“Hey, uh, not to be rude, but were you gonna check that out?”
The surprise in the girl’s gaze softened out.
“Oh. Yeah, I have a Spanish test coming up, and I wanted something extra to help me out” the young woman said. “I’m not particularly looking forward to swapping out movie night for studying, but-”
“You have Spanish class too? How come I’ve never seen you?” Troy asked, not particularly being able to pinpoint why he was interested in her answer.
“Oh, I just take it at a different time” the girl responded, and Troy mentally smacked himself for failing to reach such an obvious conclusion. Still, despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t help notice how calming the girl’s voice was. It sounded vaguely different from the voices of other girls he knew, but all that mattered was that it smoothed down any anxiety he had been feeling before.
“That’s cool” Troy said as he stood up a little straighter, looking off to the side like he had somewhere more important to be. “Say, do you think I could-”
“Borrow the book after I’m done using it for notes?” the girl said, finishing Troy’s thought. “Yeah, that should work”.
Troy looked back at the girl. For someone who seemed rather subdued, she sure was quick to the punch.
“Sounds neat-o” Troy said with a thumbs up, mentally smacking himself again for sounding so corny. Geez, what was up with him today?
“I should be done with the notes by tomorrow, one o’clock in the afternoon. We can meet up at this spot around that time.”
Troy merely nodded. He didn’t want to risk sounding stupid again.
Lighten up, she’s just some chick in a library.
The girl tilted her head like she was about to ask something, before turning her gaze back to the bookcase.
“I’m gonna go to the graphic novels section now”.
Troy furrowed his brow slightly. He didn’t see why she had to announce that, but as she began to walk away, Troy couldn’t help but hope she’d find something cool to read. Not that he cared about comics or anything.
As Troy made his way through the maze of bookshelves and gaudy posters, he couldn’t help but think about the girl’s eyes again. Even in his memory, they looked so magnetic, almost hypnotizing in their gentleness. A shade of dark hazel you wanted to drink from and sink into. Troy stepped through the library’s exit, and sighed.
Look at you, getting all worked up. And you don’t even know her name.
When Alia was little, she was told to never flap her hands. She was told not to do a lot of things - no spinning, no rocking, if you keep humming you’ll get no desert - but flapping was always on the top of the list. That list had been created and added to by her mother over the years, until one day she left and the list vanished with her. But Alia never forgot. No flapping.
But in that corner of the library, with nobody in sight other than Batman and company, Alia let her hands flutter on her lap.
Someone had talked to her. Not only that, but she’d been the one to start the conversation itself. And she’d somehow managed to push through the bad thoughts about her voice and keep talking. That last part, she’d observed, was very important. And talking to that boy had been such a breeze. In a way, his awkwardness had made her feel more comfortable. She wasn’t very adept at detecting when things had turned uncomfortable, but something in the boy’s mannerisms had spelled everything out.
Of course, there was a bad thought to accompany all of this, like a nasty crease in a good book.
Was he only awkward because of your voice? Because your face isn’t the shape you always wished it was?
Alia frowned. It was an all too likely possibility. But he’d agreed to meet with her tomorrow, and that must mean something, right?
Usually, the people who are uncomfortable with who you are leave without so much as a goodbye. And if they do say goodbye, it’s with a smile made of plastic. But he felt real.
A small, second-long smile sprouts on Alia’s face. How wonderful it would be, to be right.
How wonderful it would be to have a friend.