Piece Two

My first impressions:

Well, she seems normal. Her hair is a little crazy. Her glasses aren't really great for her face. Holymoly--what is with that burgundy lip gloss?

But, hey, group's a group.

What I found out, at first:

She was kind of bitter about things. Reserved about religion and politics. Had a mile-long list of quips and sayings. "Don't ask, don't tell." "Never mix friends and politics or religion." "Ask for forgiveness, not permission."

I wanted to be nice. I wanted friends. I had a ready-made friend package, almost. So I decided to stick with this friendship.

In a few weeks--two? three?--she suggested I aide with her in the library during lunch. My lack of "yes" saying had been making me crazy, so why not?

It was awkward at first. Leaving the lunch room 15 minutes early. Walking through the silent halls, like we were doing something wrong. Stopping off at the washroom that was supposedly "off limits"--even though it was the only convenient one between the cafeteria and the library.

Those three minutes in the washroom strangely stick out in my mind. We would mutter a conversation as we obsessed over hair and ruddy skin. Standing in front of that godforsaken mirror...all the little things that were said.

Tomorrow, more on the mirror. Day after, back to the library.