When I saw that new Humboldt Community Service student enter the class, I was surprised, like hugely. She’s the same girl I saw staring at my portrait of me posing beautifully in a sissonne ballet pose, I thought she was some new student amazed by the elevation I got, I was about to approach her and say, “ yeah that’s me, do you think you can pose better, because you can’t.” But as I got closer to her, I stopped myself, when I saw her face and the way she was looking at my portrait, I just couldn’t. Which was new to me, I’m usually the first to say something, and make fun of someone. I just watched her, which was weird for me, but I didn't care, I watched her until she went into the office. Then my stupid Statistics teacher came out of his class, and told me to hurry inside, I ignored him for a bit, I hate being told what to do, and then went inside class like I didn't even hear him.

I didn’t think of her again until now, I wonder how old she is, she looks like a High Schooler, not a college student. I thought about her during my ballet class, her earrings we’re cool, she had a square hoop black one on each upper lobe, and and silver studs for both of her bottom lobes, I couldn’t see her helix's but, she probably had earrings their too. Her hair was light brown and was down in a beautiful mess of thick curls, she was wearing her community service shirt, with light blue pants, and nikes tennis shoes, that I would never wear, and I would normally say that out loud, but I didn’t. And that frustrated me, why didn’t I call her out, why didn’t I want to embarrass her, maybe, because Mrs. Grace actually seemed satisfied with her answer to her stupid question. And I respected how she answered it so cooly. Augh… whatever I just blocked her out and focused on warming up for ballet class.

After finishing class flawlessly I’m about to leave school and take a much needed shower when I remember I have to get a stupid book for history class. Their still students on campus, so as I make my way down the halls people stop talking and lower their heads, and shirk away. If it isn’t already obvious I’m the queen bitch on campus, yes I know what people say about me and yes I’m proud. No one takes advantage of me, no one tells me about their lame problems, I just have to deal with me, myself, and I, and I love that. Even my friends don’t tell me about their problems and I love that, the way I see it is when you tell someone about your problems your asking someone to help you out of your own mess, and that’s just weak and pathetic to me. If you get yourself in a mess, then it's your responsibility to get yourself out. I don’t need or want anyone's help, and I’ve never wanted anyone to lean on me for help either. I may not be fans of my parents, but they taught me that, and so that’s how I’ve lived.

It’s 4:45pm when I get in the library, I ignored the closed doors and went inside. Closed door’s for the library means, it's closed and that Mr. Owen’s just cleaning up and getting his things, but the lights are still on so I know he’s still here and I need a stupid book, so I’m going to get one. I need help looking for a book about the cold war’s effects on the civilians. I’m looking for Mr. Owen I searched the first floor, and I’m looking through the second floor, I may hate listening to others and rules, but Mr. Owen’s a big scary ass guy, and he’s especially scary when a students dares to yell in his precious library.

 When I’m about to go down another aisle I see that girl again, I shrink back out of the aisle. She has a book cart by her and she’s stacking book’s back onto the shelves. My heart starts beating like crazy, and my knees feel a little weak and shaky, augh what's happening to me, I grip my sweaty shirt over my heart and try to calm down. I don’t know why but, I just feel like staring at her. Her eyebrows are slightly furrowed as she’s stacking books back onto their shelves, then I suddenly hear a syfy ringtone go off, and I watch her take her phone out and read a text and smile, and suddenly I’m irritated I want to know who the hell is making her smile, and I want to know right fucking now. I’m acting like a jealous girlfriend, what the hell is wrong with me, OH MY GOD!, I think I’m jealous. This can’t be, I don’t get jealous, I never cared if I saw one of my former boyfriends talking to a girl, mostly because, I just didn’t care, and also who in their right mind would cheat on me. Plus how could I be jealous of whoever’s talking to this girl, she’s a fucking girl. And I’m straight I’ve never been interested in women, and I’m in ballet so I’ve seen a lot of girl skin in the dressing rooms and during practice. I’M NOT A FUCKING DOUGHNUT BUMPER! I’m so focused on my inward meltdown, that I don’t even notice the volunteer, placing her last book away, and heading out of the aisle.

“Excuse me, do you need help with something?” I look up, and the volunteer is looking at me, and I feel like I when I first saw her in the aisle all over again except worse, aaahhh, she’s staring at me waiting for a response, and I can’t think of anything to say. What’s happening to me this never happens to me, I’m the overly confident, ferocious, elegant, dominant, selfish, queen bitch. I’m not this pathetic girl whose knees shake when she’s about to talk to another girl with stupid nike shoes, and if it was any other girl I’d call her out on her poor fashion sense, but I can’t for some stupid fucking reason, I can’t, and I think they suit her.

What should I say,..FUCK!

I finally look into her eyes, and say in the most pathetic voice I’ve ever heard myself sound, I didn’t even know I was physically capable of making, “Can you help me find a book?” I say in a horribly shaky voice.

She smiles and says. “Okay, what kind?”

I blush and desperately try to calm my racing heart and stop staring at her chest which isn’t huge, but you can still tell that she has a chest. And I like that for some reason I like how if she wore a jacket you wouldn't entirely be able to see her chest, I like her light colored brown eyes, and I like how she doesn’t really have hips, and I like how she appears to have a swimmers body, and I start to wonder if maybe she’s a swimmer. I suddenly remember she asked my a question, shit I zoned out, “ I need a book about about the Cold War’s effects on civilians.” I say.

She smiles and says, “Sure, just follow me.” I just nod and follow. As we start up the stairs to the third floor, she slightly turns to make eye contact and say’s, “Do you need the book for an essay, or something.”

“Yeah, it’s for history class.” I say.

She asks, “Do you like history?”

 No, I’m just taking it because, the American education system says I have to learn about stuff that happened a billion years ago in order to graduate. Is what I would have said, but for some reason I said, “No, but do you?” what the fuck. Why do I care what she thinks of me? “I like history, it's interesting to me how, people use to live back then, and it reminds me how everyone has problems of their own, big or small they still matter to that person being affected you know? Like the cold war, it wasn’t just the fighters who we’re facing difficulties, but so we’re the people left at home. The war was out of the civilians hands they could do nothing, but aid their army with things like care packages, and prayers. ” Woah, I never thought of it that way. She actually makes me feel a little bad for not caring about other people's problems. Who the hell, is this girl, through this conversation I’ve managed to calm down a bit, and she has me suddenly thinking about other people problems. Suddenly she stops, and takes a book from a shelf and says. “Here you go, hopefully it helps you out.”

“Thanks.” I say quietly and I gingerly take the book. Suddenly I realize I have no reason to stay here anymore and that I still want to talk to her. Even though I’m a fucking nervous wreck around her I don’t want to leave yet, the conversation were nerve wracking and easy at the same time, if that makes any sense.

“Thank you, sorry for interrupting your work.” Why the hell am I apologizing?

“It’s cool, no problem I just finished everything, anyways.” I feel so fucking relieved by that and I hate it, why am I attracted to her, and her beautiful tan skin, she looks part mexican, and she’s so mellow, and has a carefree vibe that I'm just insane about. I need to get it together. I’m about to just leave, but I want to know her name.

“What’s your name?” I ask. Feeling slowly like my old confident and blunt self, as I slowly relax into my already naturally straight posture, due to constant posture corrections from my mother, and ballet coaches.

She slightly smiles that makes me hold my breath a bit and say’s, “Artemis Jay Jones, but people just call me Jay.”

I smile and confidently state, “My names, Raven Aggey Carter, I’ll call you Artemis.” I say while looking into her gorgeous slightly surprised light brown eyes, and then I turn around and leave the library confidently. And my cool collected smile turns into a stupid shit eating grin as I get in my dark gray BMW convertible.