I THINK I'M DEFINITELY GOING TO HATE IT

Chapter 3

Aurelia

"I'm, um." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm Aurelia. Freshman. I like to read."

It was pathetic.

The shortest introduction in the entire class. But it was all I could manage before my throat closed up completely.

"Welcome, Aurelia," Professor Chen said kindly, then moved on to the next student.

I sat back in my seat, my face burning, my heart pounding. I'd done it. I'd survived my first introduction. It was terrible, but I'd survived.

The class itself wasn't so bad once I didn't have to talk. Professor Chen lectured about the syllabus and course expectations while I took detailed notes, grateful to have something to focus on besides my anxiety.

When class ended ninety minutes later, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Aurelia, wait up!"

I turned to find Sienna jogging after me. "Want to grab coffee? There's a place on campus that's supposedly decent."

I stared at her, completely confused. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to get coffee with me?"

Sienna tilted her head, studying me with dark eyes that saw too much. "Because you look like you could use a friend. And I'm excellent friend material. Plus, I need someone to complain about this class with."

Part of me wanted to say no, wanted to run back to my dorm room and hide. But another part of me, a tiny part I'd tried to bury, was desperately lonely. I hadn't had a real friend since I was thirteen years old.

"Okay," I heard myself say. "Coffee sounds good."

Sienna grinned. "Awesome. Fair warning, I'm going to ask you a million questions because I'm nosy as hell. Feel free to tell me to shut up whenever."

We walked across campus to a small coffee shop called The Grind. It was packed with students, but Sienna managed to snag us a table in the corner while I ordered our drinks. I got a vanilla latte with extra sugar, needing the comfort.

"So," Sienna said when I sat down with our drinks. "What's your story, Aurelia? And before you say you don't have one, everyone has a story. Especially people who look as scared as you do."

I wrapped my hands around my warm cup, debating how much to tell her. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to dump my entire traumatic past on someone I'd just met either.

"I was homeschooled for the past eight years," I said carefully. "So being around this many people is kind of overwhelming."

"Homeschooled? That explains the deer-in-headlights look." Sienna took a sip of her black coffee. "Why homeschooled? Religious parents? Child prodigy? Secret government experiment?"

Despite myself, I felt my lips twitch. "Nothing that interesting. I just didn't do well in traditional school."

"Bullying?" Sienna asked bluntly.

I looked up sharply, and she shrugged. "I recognize the signs. I got bullied pretty bad in middle school for being Korean and weird. Kids are assholes."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "They really are."

"But you came back anyway. That takes guts." Sienna leaned back in her chair. "So what made you decide to torture yourself with university?"

"My parents made a deal with me. One year. If I hate it, they'll let me live however I want. If I don't hate it, I keep going."

"And what do you think so far?"

"I think I'm definitely going to hate it," I admitted.

Sienna laughed. "Fair enough. But hey, you've got me now. And I'm an excellent buffer between you and the rest of humanity. Plus, I can teach you all the tricks for surviving college without actually having to interact with people much."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, genuinely confused. "You don't even know me."

"Because you remind me of me a few years ago," Sienna said simply. "Before I learned to weaponize my weirdness and stop caring what people think. Everyone deserves at least one person in their corner, you know?"

I felt something tight in my chest loosen just slightly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm a terrible influence. I'm going to drag you to at least one party this semester."

"Absolutely not," I said immediately.

"We'll see." Sienna grinned. "So what other classes do you have today?"

I pulled out my schedule. "Introduction to Psychology at one, and Basic Statistics at three."

"Statistics? Oof. You poor thing. That class is apparently a nightmare." Sienna checked her own schedule on her phone. "I've got Programming Fundamentals at two. Want to meet for lunch before your afternoon classes?"

The old me would have said no, would have retreated to my dorm room to hide. But sitting here with Sienna, I felt something I hadn't felt in eight years.

Normal.

"Yeah," I said. "Lunch sounds good."

We spent another hour at the coffee shop, with Sienna doing most of the talking. She told me about her family in San Francisco, her love of hacking things just to see if she could, her collection of vintage band t-shirts.

She was funny and smart and seemed completely comfortable in her own skin.

I envied her that.

When we finally left to head to our respective classes, Sienna gave me her number. "Text me if you need anything. Seriously. Even if it's just to panic about homework or complain about terrible professors."

"I will," I promised, saving her contact in my phone.

"And Aurelia?" Sienna looked at me seriously. "That hoodie is doing you no favors. We're going shopping this weekend."

"I like my hoodie," I protested.

"I know you do. That's the problem." Sienna winked. "See you at lunch."

I watched her walk away, then headed toward the Psychology building for my next class.

My anxiety was still there, still present under everything, but it felt slightly less overwhelming.

I'd survived my first class. I'd made a friend, or at least someone who wanted to be my friend. Maybe this year wouldn't be complete torture.

Psychology class was easier because the professor didn't make us introduce ourselves.

I sat in the back again, took notes, and didn't have to speak to anyone. Statistics was the same. By the time I got back to my dorm room at five PM, I was exhausted but I'd survived.

Day one complete.

I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My phone buzzed with a text.

Sienna: You survived! Proud of you. Same time tomorrow for coffee before class?

I smiled despite my exhaustion and texted back.

Me: Same time tomorrow.

Maybe, just maybe, I could do this. One day at a time. One class at a time. One coffee with Sienna at a time.

I pulled out my journal, something my therapist had encouraged me to keep, and wrote about my day. About being terrified. About Sienna. About the small victory of surviving.

The rest of my first week at Westridge University passed with a mixture of anxiety and exhaustion.

I developed a routine quickly because routines felt safe.

Wake up at six AM. Shower. Pull on the same type of clothes, grey or black hoodies with leggings.

Meet Sienna at The Grind for coffee before our nine AM literature class. Survive classes. Return to my dorm room by five PM. Order delivery for dinner because the dining hall was too crowded, too overwhelming. Do homework. Sleep. Repeat.

Sienna texted me constantly, which was both annoying and comforting. She'd send me memes at random hours, complaints about her programming assignments, and running commentary on our classmates.

Sienna: That guy in the front row of lit class definitely doesn't shower regularly. I'm sitting three rows back and I can SMELL him.

Sienna: Professor Graze just made a sex joke and no one laughed except me. This class has no culture.

Sienna: Why are you not responding? Are you hiding in your dorm again? I'm staging an intervention.

I usually responded with simple emojis or short messages, but Sienna didn't seem to mind. She filled the silence with enough words for both of us.

By Friday, I was starting to feel like maybe I could actually survive this year. I hadn't had any panic attacks in class. No one had bothered me. I'd successfully stayed invisible, which was exactly what I needed.

"You're coming to the library with me," Sienna announced after our literature class on Friday morning. "No arguments."

"I have homework to do in my room," I protested weakly.

"You have homework to do everywhere. That's the nature of homework. But you can't spend every waking moment in your dorm like some kind of hermit."

She linked her arm through mine, ignoring my instinct to pull away. "The library is huge. You can find a corner to hide in. Plus, they have better WiFi than the dorms."

"I don't want to go somewhere crowded," I said.

"The library is literally the least crowded place on campus because nobody actually studies anymore. Everyone just pretends to study while scrolling TikTok."

Sienna steered me toward a massive stone building that looked like it belonged in a Harry Potter movie. "Trust me. You'll love it."

I didn't love it, but I also didn't hate it as much as I thought I would.

The library was five stories of books and quiet study spaces. Sienna was right, it wasn't very crowded. Most of the students who were there had headphones in and were focused on their own work.

"See? Peaceful." Sienna gestured around. "The fifth floor is usually completely empty. That's where I go when I really need to focus. Come on."

We took the elevator to the fifth floor, and Sienna was right again. It was completely deserted. Just rows and rows of books and a few study carrels tucked into corners.

"This is your spot now," Sienna declared, dropping her bag at a carrel near a window with a view of campus. "Friday afternoons, we study here. It's our thing."

"We have a thing?" I asked, something warm spreading through my chest.

"We have multiple things. Coffee every morning, lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays, library time on Fridays. We're basically best friends now." Sienna pulled out her laptop. "You're stuck with me, Winters. Accept your fate."

I sat down across from her, pulling out my own laptop and trying to hide my smile. I had a friend, an actual friend who wanted to spend time with me. It felt fragile and terrifying and wonderful all at once.

We worked in comfortable silence for an hour. Sienna occasionally muttered curses at her computer screen when her code wouldn't work, and I highlighted passages in my psychology textbook.

It was peaceful and safe, just the way I love.

"I need caffeine," Sienna announced suddenly. "This code is making my brain hurt, want anything from the coffee cart downstairs?"

"I'm okay," I said.

"Be right back, don't get kidnapped by a serial killer while I'm gone." She grabbed her wallet and headed for the elevator.

I watched her go, then turned back to my textbook.

I was reading about cognitive behavioral therapy and the treatment of anxiety disorders, which felt both ironic and depressing.

I knew all these techniques, I'd tried all of them but nothing worked completely.

I was so absorbed in reading that I didn't notice I'd been slowly sliding my psychology textbook closer to the edge of the desk.

It finally tipped over the edge, falling with a loud thump that echoed through the quiet floor.

"Shit," I muttered, standing up to pick it up.

I bent down to grab the textbook at the exact same moment someone else did, and we nearly collided.

I jerked back instinctively, my heart racing, and looked up to find myself staring into the most intense blue eyes I'd ever seen.