Tami lay on her bed, one leg bouncing slightly, a half-read textbook pushed to the side. Her African American Studies assignment wasn't exactly calling to her, and honestly, she hadn't even tried to focus. Not when her brain was still stuck on something else.. or rather, someone. Her eyes drifted to her phone.
James.
She hadn't even texted him since she got his number. That alone was weird. She wasn't shy. So why was she hesitating?
The truth? She didn't have a solid reason. She'd noticed him at church, and she was curious. Curious why he left so early from church. Curious who he was. Curious why someone that quiet still managed to stand out. So she sent a random anonymous message just for fun, and then, when he didn't respond, she found herself going down a rabbit hole. Not a full-blown obsession, but close enough to be annoying.
"He doesn't look like an art major" she said. "Probably science. Maybe engineering? Math?"
She sat up and opened her laptop. The Princeton site loaded slowly. She started clicking through department pages, club rosters, anything that might lead somewhere.
"There's way too many departments" she said, leaning back. "It's like trying to find an ant in a field of elephants."
She knew it didn't make sense. They were both students here, on the same campus, yet it felt like he existed in a completely different layer of reality.
Her thumb hovered over his contact.
"I could just text him" she said.
Still, no message was sent.
What would she even say? "Hey, remember me from church? I've been casually investigating your entire life for no reason."
Yeah, no.
She leaned her head back against the wall. This wasn't even about him anymore. It was the mystery. The silence. The way he just existed in the background with nothing online, no digital trail, no clues. That kind of quiet was rare.
She opened Snapchat. No updates. Instagram? Barely anything.
"Not helpful," she sighed. "Who doesn't have an internet presence in 2025?"
And then, maybe joking, maybe not.. she said, "I bet he keeps a diary. Or something. He feels like a 'writes-at-night-in-a-journal' type." She smirked to herself.
***
"Man... life in this place was exhausting."
James slumped against the railing outside the lecture hall, bag heavy on one shoulder, brain heavier. The sun was doing too much. The air felt like concrete. And his head was spinning with equations he was pretty sure they never actually taught.
Being an engineering student was like agreeing to suffer professionally.
It wasn't even the workload alone, it was how everything felt designed to break you. Like the lecturers weren't just teaching... they were running a psychological experiment to see how long someone could go without sleep, food, or hope.
He let out a sigh so deep it could've filed a complaint.
"I miss when all I had to do was eat, sleep, and maybe play 2k" he mumbled to himself. "Now it's just... tests. Back to back. No tutorial, no explanation, just—boom, test."
He rubbed his face like he could wipe the stress off.
"Yo."
James turned his head slightly. Barry.
He recognized the voice before the face. Barry always came in like he was stepping into a party, even if it was a room full of confused students and one stressed-out TA. He was tall, athletic, the kind of guy who somehow knew everyone's name and had three group chats going at once.
James wouldn't call him a friend. They weren't there yet. Not even close. More like... in the same orbit. Same course. Same year. Talked when they had to. Vibes didn't always match, but Barry was cool, and more importantly, he was there.
"Hey," James said, nodding.
Barry plopped down next to him, stretching his legs out like he owned the campus.
"You look like death, bro," he said, half-laughing. "That thermodynamics class took all of us out."
Barry shook his head. "Swear I've never seen those questions before in my life. Guy, did they even teach that?"
"Exactly," James said. "Where did it even come from?"
Barry laughed. "They just want to humble us. No other reason."
James nodded slowly, eyes on the ground. "I'm starting to get why some people dropped out."
Barry raised a brow. "Thinking of dipping?"
"Nah," James said quickly. "I'm just tired. All this stress, and sometimes I'm not even sure why I'm doing it."
Barry leaned back on his hands. "You and me both."
They sat in silence for a bit. Students walked past, some in groups, others alone. A couple people waved at Barry. He waved back.
Barry glanced sideways, then broke the silence.
"So… anything new? What's up with you?"
James hesitated.
He didn't really have "updates." His life wasn't the kind that changed week to week—no wild stories, no drama. Just lectures, assignments, trying to stay sane.
Still, he didn't want to kill the vibe either.
"Well," he said, shifting his bag slightly, "there's this chick."
Barry raised a brow, interested.
"She asked for my number a while ago," James continued, tone casual. "Then started sending anonymous messages. Thinks I don't know it's her."
Barry blinked. "Fr? Like anonymous how?"
"Like... text messages from an unknown number. Just random stuff. Nothing crazy, but I can tell it's her."
Barry laughed. "Damn. That's... kinda weird. Kinda cute. Depends on the girl though."
James gave a half-smile. "Yeah. Chicks these days."
Barry leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "So what, you into it or nah?"
James shrugged. "I don't even know. I barely know her. I've seen her around church, mostly. African American Studies major, I think."
Barry let out a low whistle. "Church girl sending anonymous messages. That's different."
James nodded slowly. "Yeah. She's different."
Barry shot him a sideways look. "You sure it's not just your type creeping up on you?"
James didn't answer. He wasn't sure either.
Barry stood up and stretched. "Well, whoever she is, she's putting in effort. That's gotta count for something."
James stayed seated, eyes on the ground again.
"I wouldn't exactly call that effort" he said quietly, "and I'm not sure I'm someone she should be chasing."
Barry didn't press. Just gave a short nod, slapped James lightly on the shoulder, and walked off.