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College isn’t quite the place he’d dreamt of it being.
It’s been three days now and Impulse hasn’t spoken to a single other person. He’d thought that by now he might be able to get over the social anxiety that had haunted him throughout highschool, that maybe starting fresh with people who didn’t see him as weird could be good for his social life, but so far he’s only slipped through the radar as usual.
Impulse sighs, cheek leant on his hand as he stares blankly at the notes he mindlessly typed up from his first lecture, the professor moving on so quickly that he didn’t have time to digest any of the material. Honestly, he was just glad he didn’t zone out and miss anything.
The library is pretty silent, and he’d thought he was alone until he hears someone else sigh, and turns to his left to see another student staring at her laptop in a similarly frustrated manner. Seems he’s not the only one already being defeated by the college experience.
The woman is a little shorter than he is, with curly ginger hair that reaches just beyond her shoulders. She’s dressed in an off-white t-shirt and slightly dusty dungarees, with well-worn boots donning her feet.
At that moment, Impulse isn’t entirely sure what possesses him.
Maybe it’s his frustration with the way he was sidelined by everyone throughout highschool, or perhaps the fact that she seems similarly alone and overwhelmed by work, but something deep inside drives him over to her. He hovers next to her desk, until she looks towards him.
“Are you a first year?” His attempt at making small talk comes over extremely awkwardly.
She either doesn’t notice his demeanor or ignores it as she smiles, “Yeah, studying architecture, though I think I’m in a little too deep.”
“Architecture, huh?” He whistles, “What got you into that?”
She gazes out of the library windows, “Since I’ve been in this city, its buildings have been fascinating to me.”
“So, since birth?” Her statement bewilders him.
She goes a little pale, “Yeah, erm, since birth.”
He can feel he’s upset her in some way, so he blurts out, “Sorry…”
“Sorry? For what?”
“I said something that clearly upset you,” He bites his lower lip, “I don’t know what it was, but I’m sorry.”
She observes his arms trembling slightly, “You really don’t think much of yourself, do you?”
Impulse isn’t sure how to respond, so he decides to retreat back to his seat with his head down and without uttering another word.
He’s hardly sat down for five seconds until a fist is slammed on his workspace.
The redhead is looming by him as he turns around, a determined look in her eye, “Do you have any friends.”
“No,” He tentatively admits.
She sticks her hand out, “Well, you do now. My name is Gem.”
“I’m Impulse,” He grasps her hand and shakes it, although not a common greeting among people their age.
Gem pulls her chair over, “If you don’t mind taking a break from your work, I’m sure there’s plenty for us to catch up on.”
They stay there talking until the library closes for the night, and then they meet for breakfast the following morning.
Impulse isn’t sure how he got so lucky. Truly, he thought he'd be some friendless nobody for the rest of his life, and from getting to know Gem, it seems she’s as in need of a friend as he is.
From that day forward, the two of them would be almost inseparable. Some time in the future, they’d meet the final note of their triad, and many bowls of soup would be shared between them.