I thankfully arrive in my dorm after closing up the bookstore for the night. I lean my back against the closed door, letting out a shuddering breath.

"He can't be serious. What does he see in me?" I whisper, questioning myself. I'm appalling.

My insecurities seem to have become a part of my already timid personality. They stem all the way from my childhood. I've always been the shy cat in the corner who never had many friends in school. It was probably because I made the unconscious choice to live in my own bubble of seclusion whenever I got the chance.

It helped me cope. Cope with all the shit that I've been trying to avoid for years now. The shit that continues to keep me up at night and refuses to give me any grief.

Being in the accelerated program at my high school didn't help my cause. I skipped a grade and completed my high school requirements by the beginning of my junior year in high school. So it was natural that I would have had no time for friends or any form of a social life at that.

Focusing on my studies helped with my unconscious goal of personal seclusion. It helped me not have to deal with my own issues and it prevented anyone else from having to deal with them either. I never seemed to fit in anywhere, being the only 'black' girl in the majority of my classes. The racial disparity amplified the social separation I already had from my fellow peers.  No one wanted to waste their time with the nerdy black girl that was always to herself and I learned how to be content with that.

I try hard to nudge the painfully vivid memories to the back of my mind, but they continue to linger giving me internal chills. They play rapidly like fast-forwarded scenes in an old black and white Hollywood film, haunting me.

I don't want to trust him. I can't afford to.

As if on cue, a familiar buzzing noise interrupts my sorrowful thoughts. It is a text from an unfamiliar number.

Hey.

I freeze, unsure of who could be texting me this late at night. After taking a second to settle my thoughts, I put two and two together.

Hey.

Really, Jules? The simple replication of his message is all I can muster up the courage to type. Human interaction hasn't always been my strong suit.

Nothing much, just finding myself thinking about you.

I'd be flattered, but I doubt that's there's much to think about.

Well then give me more to think about, Jules. I find you intriguing.

I knit my eyebrows in deep skepticism, afraid to accept his flirtatiousness. Why does he want to know about me?

How so?

Well, if you accept my offer then you may be able to find out.

I'm about to throw my phone at the wall in a few seconds. The thought of someone taking enough interest in me to ask me out on a date sends all my logical sense into a swirl. The funny thing is that I'm unable to even visualize such a scenario.

Thinking about this brings me back to high school.

"Julian, you need to put yourself out there," Emma whined as she smothered the very bright cherry lipstick across her lips. "I can't show up to the party alone."

"You'll do perfectly fine without my presence," I replied, nonchalantly reading through the latest edition of the biology research journal as I lie comfortably on my stomach in my ragged twin size bed.

"You do this all the time. Just loosen up a bit. I heard Chase would be there," Emma basically sang as she tried so hard to convince me to go to the supposed eleventh-grade 'party of the year'.

Using Chase as extrinsic motivation to go was smart on her part. Chase Montgomery was my crush since the seventh grade and due to my insecurities and stubborn nature, I did not take the opportunity to ever reveal the feelings I had for him, which haunted me all the way through high school.

"Emma," I warned as I looked up at her with annoyance spread across my face.

"What? I'm just relaying accurate information." She defended, imitating innocence as she stared at me through the mirror with her clueless icy blue eyes.

"No."

"And this is why you'll be alone forever."

Those infamous words said by Emma Richardson, my closest and only friend in high school, linger hauntingly over my head.

My thoughts jumble around those words "alone forever". I know I don't want to be alone. Should I 'put myself out there?'

Before I can think logically and object, my fingers tap away skillfully at my phone, trying their best to avoid being cut by the cracked glass.

I think I'll accept that offer.

I'm glad to hear that, Jules. I'll make it worth your while.

I hope so...

A bit of confidence starts rushing through, causing my tense muscles to finally relax. I feel comfortable enough to start bouncing off his never-ending arrogance.

I'd never mess up a chance with a beauty like you.

I cannot lie. The statement sets my face on fire. No guy has ever referred to me as a beauty. I can cringe at his corniness, but a part of me finds it endearing.

Okay, now you're being corny. Don't you say that to all the girls?

I probably look like a ridiculous smirking mess right now. More like a teenager swooning over a high school crush. I mean I'm basically eighteen and I'm acting like this. My position on my bed tells it all. I lie on my stomach with my legs fluttering, completely engrossed in my phone. For the first time, I truly feel like I'm enjoying myself.

No, only the ones that have captured by intrigue.

Do you always speak in sappy poetry?

It's just the way I am sweetheart, but I will say that you are a special case.

I find that hard to believe with only knowing of my existence for a total of ten minutes.

That's fair, but I genuinely feel that there's just something about you. Can I ask you a question?

Go ahead.

Did it hurt?

Did what hurt?

Did it hurt, when you fell from heaven?

I'm cringing. The audacity of this man to hit me with that weak ass pickup line. That line should be illegal.

The audacity of you. That was probably one of the worst ones.

But you felt something, didn't you?

This dude. He is cheesy but right. I'm a smiling mess. Imagining him saying all these things in person makes me feel an intense swirling in my lower half. His ability to lighten the mood is something that really makes me want to keep texting him.

Completely disregarding my previous skepticism, I proceeded to text him all night long. I laughed the entire time as he continuously attempted to be funny with his extremely dry and corny humor. It was nice because we didn't get into anything too personal, just lighthearted for the most part. I found his company and attention quite entertaining, especially since I'm virtually alone here in Orlando.

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