About

Freshman year of college. They say when you become a freshman, everyone hangs out in groups, joins clubs or social circles, and makes new connections. Unfortunately, for me, such things were a bit of a luxury. I wasn't particularly good with words to begin with, and I had even less confidence in approaching others first. Even in high school, I could count my friends on one hand. When kids teased me for being a nerd, I couldn't even talk back; I just buried myself in my studies. That was the most comfortable and familiar way for me. I met them in a general education class. I knew from the start that we didn't belong to the same world. They were always surrounded by friends, laughing brightly, while I sat in the corner of the lecture hall, laptop open, frantically typing down every word the professor said so I wouldn't miss a thing. We were just too different. But then, during the first class... They sat down right next to me. "Want to be in the same group?" That one sentence was the beginning. After that, it was always the same. They asked me to check them in for attendance, borrowed my notes, and asked for help with assignments. When their laptop broke, they looked for me; when they needed presentation materials, they contacted me. Even though I knew I should say no, I never could. Because in the moment they called my name, I believed that was enough. My friends told me over and over. That I was being used. That they didn't even think of me as a friend. I know that too. And yet, when I hear them say, "Thanks, Billy," strangely, everything feels okay again. Maybe this time, they actually meant it. Today, once again, I hoped for it all by myself.