ruh roh

Hand reaches out to take the book where the letter had been tucked in, not out of any particular interest although it does cause a curious brow to rise as his eyes look over at the stranger. "Right. You...you in social studies? Psychology?" he hands it back, but his attention is fully reserved now as he awaits a response. "Or is Turkle a bit of a light evening read for you?" a nudge of his shoulder is gentle, as they exist the library, and he feels a tad bit foolish for having instantly messed up the challenge by revealing his name. His cheeks warm, and he brushes it off with a smile, finding her words incredibly endearing. "Div." he repeats, committing name to memory. At least, whatever happens from here on out will be built on something real. Comfort in that.

As she reads out a question, he takes a moment to maul it over. The night air, as they exit the library, offers a sudden burst of clarity and newfound energy. Seems he did not even realise how much he'd needed this, a bit of fresh air, a walk. A conversation that did not revolve around anatomy or chemistry.

"Don't think I ever had to buy a gift for someone I didn't know well. So uh, keep in mind my strategy is purely theoretical." he nods, trying to recall the last time he'd bought a gift at all. His sisters birthday, February; a signed copy of Poppy War by RF Kuang. "Suppose I'd gift a bit of myself, first. Uh, a book I like, maybe a...a perfume or a cologne I find smells good?" it would help build a bridge, surely, between strangers? "Think I'd add something more generic too, like...a gift card? Let them buy something they actually want." a shrug passes his shoulders. He really is trying. Even though he is pretty sure the right answer is to just give money inside an envelope containing a birthday card with a funny play on words. It's what his father does, seeing as he knows none of his children well enough to buy them anything of value. "Fill the rest of the bag with snacks? They ought to like some of those...right?" nervous chuckle, and he rubs the back of his neck. He decides that is as good as that answer is gonna get.

Very quickly, she felt like she spoke too much when his question could have warranted a simple 'yes' or 'no'. As they made their way out of the library, Divya promised herself she’d stay quiet for at least five minutes, happily giving him the floor and hoping her little ramble would get brushed aside.

When Adrian informs her he's not bought a gift for someone he doesn't know very well before and that his answer is all theoretical, Divya gave a big nod of her head, possibly overcompensating for how she would have usually said "yeah, got it" to let him know she caught that instead. She listened intently, taking every bit of information she could learn about him from what he's shared.

After letting herself process his answer for a bit, she said "You know, a mate of mine is writing a paper on how when it comes to sending people memes and things online, she finds that men tend to send people things they find funny, while women send people things they think the other person would find funny." It's the first thing that came to mind when he shared he liked to gift a bit of himself first.

"I think that's quite interesting isn't it?" She posed. "That it's a bit similar with gifts. Because while your first instinct is to do that, gift a bit of yourself, and then go practical by giving gift cards and snacks, mine would be to think of everything I know about them so far, even if it's barely anything, and then gift them something to do with that. Like if the first time I met them they wearing a yellow shirt in a coffee shop, I'd try to give them as yellow mug or something."

A yellow mug would be a great gift now that she's mentioned it. With a bit of hand-drawn design to personalise it and make it more whimsical. She looked at Adrian then, wondering what he thought of her answer and what it made him think of her. It was a bad habit she was trying to break. Old habits died hard and all.

To distract herself from getting too introspective and in-her-head about this whole exchange, she went on to read the next question. Action starved anxiety, or so her therapist liked to say.

"What is one compliment you’ve received that you’ll never forget?" She read out.

Well, this question certainly did nothing to ease her insecurity about this whole thing.

Is your being here tonight some kind of attempt at learning then? Taru quickly dropped the act with an amused scoff, though there was a tinge of genuine offense in there. Him? In a library? To learn? "I'm offended by that allegation. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid." He leaned an elbow against the nearest shelf, lacing his fingers together as he assessed the woman's facial expression. It was an extremely familiar one.

Pippa knew he was messing with her. And maybe she knew she was a fool for obliging, but the truth was she was bored. And maybe, just maybe, if she indulged him, she’d finally earn a straight answer in return. With a soft exhale, she brought the letter back closer to herself and began to read it.

"Dear reader," she started.

She kept her reading pace steady and voice clear, providing pauses where needed for emphasis and shifts in her tone to convey humor or sincerity. Reading well aloud had always been one of her quiet points of pride thanks to her fifth-grade English teacher that once commended for her it.

She flipped the paper around once she was done reading. "It didn't lie. There is a challenge written behind this. With rules, a list of questions... everything."

The dare that came with the letter had Pippa's brows pulling together.

“Steal a traffic cone…?” She read slowly, disbelief curling at the edge of her voice. “That has to be illegal," she said with a scrunch of her nose.

"oh my god no! guy gingers and girls are like a different breed. girl's with red hair? goddesses, beautiful. but guys with red hair? terrifying." charlie laughed lightly. "ed sheeran for example, that sounds like my worst nightmare. if i saw a cut out of him in my shower, i would have killed everyone on that team."

"yeah, i dunno. i'm not good at remembering a lot of things, but i do like to try to remember things about the people i care about." it was something her mom always instilled in her. perhaps it was because she was a child of divorce and her mom had to watch charlie's dad stop caring about his kids. she never wanted them to feel unloved. charlie took that lesson as she should make sure the important people in her life felt loved too.

as the other girl went on to explain her way of remembering things, charlie nodded along to show that she was listening. even for someone who claims to not remember many dates and uses a calendar, she still was able to come up with quite a few. "that's still pretty impressive. and i don't think there's anything wrong with using a google calendar, because at least then you can be reminded instead of totally forgetting."

"oh this is a fun one! hmm," she thought for a second as they walked. "okay so this doesn't seem like a personal gift, but that wasn't the question. my best friend has been dying to get that lego cat, the black and white one that's like life sized or something, and it's like $99 dollars which is perfect. she would probably cry if i got that for her but we're both broke college kids." she chuckled lightly. "what would you get your best friend?"

Framing it that way, Kennedy considered adding Legos to her list of go-to gifts. It wasn't the most practical thing to give someone, but most of the people in her life weren’t exactly fans of practicality anyway.

"I've always wanted to get that, um, what's it — the flower bouquet one? I think it'd be so cute. I'd barely have the time to put it all together, but one day. Maybe it'll be a Christmas gift to myself or something." The gift would not only be the Lego set but the time she'd put aside to complete it.

One day, one day, one day, she thought.

Kennedy hummed in thought for a moment with the spotlight now on her. Not just about gifts, but about who her 'best friend' even was. Of course, Kennedy would say she had friends. She was close enough with her roommate — enough to know her cycle and help wash puke off her naked body after a night out. Though Kennedy wondered if that came from natural progression or her own effort to make them close because she liked the idea of being roommates and good friends. She'd argue Beth cared about her a similar amount. She'd always text Kennedy, even got her food sometimes because she knew Kennedy often forgot to eat. She also always extended an invitation for a night out despite knowing Kennedy would predictably decline.

Then there was her team. That was another kind of closeness. Born from training together day-in and day-out and the highs and lows that came with every win and loss. It felt more like family than friendship. But again, Kennedy couldn’t tell if that was the dynamic itself or her desire to see it that way.

Then of course, there was Deen. She didn't particularly remember trying to forge that one. She remembered welcoming Deen, making an effort to include her as she would any other newcomer, exercising her patience once she learned what Deen was like on the pitch, having talks about said behavior on the pitch (repeatedly), and then one day... she just couldn't remember not expecting Deen. She became a constant in Kennedy's life. The same way you would expect the sun to be there when you woke up in the morning.

"I'd probably get her a vintage Nike sweatshirt. I think they retail for about 90 bucks. Then with the change, I'd get that ice cream maker ball. You know, the one you put ice, rock salt, and a bunch of cream in and you kick it around for 30 minutes and you get ice cream?" She huffed an amused breath at the thought of it. "Yeah, I'd get her those two things."

Glancing down at the letter, Kennedy beamed at the progress they were making. "Okay, question 5, almost halfway there... What was the last gift you received? Did you like it?" She read out.

Looking over at him, she shrugged with a small smile. "I like old movies, and I think as a kid, especially, I found their voices weirdly... the word invigorating is the most accurate," she said. "And my mom has all these vintage clothes she scrounged up over the years, so I'd don one of the old fur capelets and big, chunky costume jewelry and put on performances for the family. I got a lot of Hepburn requests, as you can imagine. She's a real crowd pleaser." Her British accent, by contrast, was atrocious. She feared Diana would roll over in her grave.

When he approved of the pseudonym, she handed the book back over to him with an air of satisfaction and listened with real interest as he described the paper he was working on. In terms of fashion, much like her love of grandmotherly names, she feared her tastes veered a little geriatric; she had a lot of knitwear and, much like Katharine Hepburn, was quite fond of a comfy pair of overalls. But that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the topic, or at least that's what she thought.

"That sounds really cool," she said earnestly. The mention of feminism certainly piqued her interest. What self-respecting woman didn't dig a little liberation? "What are your findings so far? Like, do you have a thesis statement in the bag?"

"Damn, whole nine yards, huh? Fur, jewelry, and everything." He chuckled, feeling amused as he tried to picture it in his head.

"What's the Hepburn scene they had you pulling out the most?" He asked, taking the book back from her and returning to his back pocket.

Like, do you have a thesis statement in the bag?

“I do,” he revealed gladly, more than happy to gush about what he's got so far. "So, my take is basically: streetwear pretends to be genderless and rebellious, but in reality? More often than not repeats old sexist patterns. Think early Supreme stuff. Or the Nike SB campaigns."

He was tempted to take his phone out and show her some photos he'd saved for evidence, but that felt a bit much. He didn't want overwhelm her.

“Things are getting better now, sure,” he tacked on, figuring he'd conclude on a lighter note. “But that doesn't meant it wasn't not great for a long time."

After a long beat and some steps, he jutted his chin northward.

"Hey, up ahead."

There it was: The Nook. Glowing warmly and still open from the looks of it.

"Come on, let's leg it before they close on us."

He gave a quick shrug to hitch his backpack strap higher up on his shoulder, prepping to break into a jog — but not before holding his hand out for 'Esther' to take.

So when Jacob came up to him and so very kindly requested Adrian gets lost for the night, he offered very little protest in return. He gathered his things, and he walked the familiar way to the library where he’d spent good twenty minutes looking for a table isolated enough to allow him actual focus. He couldn’t listen to music while he studied, the subtle crowd noise was distracting, and although he did not need to study so much as he needed to revise, it was still oddly irritating to be doing so in public.

It took a whole hour of trying for Adrian to accept he was not going to get anything done. So he opened a bag of gummy bears, quietly, and started snacking away as he watched people interact and study, or pretend to do so anyway. He’d come to realise library was just a social zone that provided the illusion of productivity so they could all feel collectively less awful about procrastinating.

His eyes flicked, eventually, to the girl in front of him. Adrian tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, ensuring she was not talking to someone else. Confirmation was further added when she extended a piece of paper, and he skimmed through it quickly. “Uh…where’d you say you found this?” he didn’t mean for his words to sound so suspicious, so he offered a polite smile. He’d been told, on occasion, that he did not look particularly approachable. Perhaps this could be a away to prove that theory wrong.

Eyes looked over the paper again, and then he handed it over and closed his laptop slowly, putting things away. “You had me at cheeky side quest.” it was meant to be light hearted, but a part of him cringed at his own words. He was too stupid for this. He would make a fool of himself and then have no choice but to stay clear of the library for the foreseeable future. “I’m Adrian, by the way.” he extended a hand only to find his pack of gummies was still there. He switched to the other one. Smiled. “Sorry.” embarrassment eased into his cheeks. He could not look her directly in the eyes, she was pretty, she seemed sweet. So his gaze moved between her, and the library, and the door. “Shall we?”

"In a book," she answered, taking said book out of her bag for further proof.

It was Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other by an author named Sherry Turkle. She held it out to him in case he wanted a closer look.

When the stranger began to pack up his things, Divya fully expected that he was doing so to get far away from her and this odd letter. But when he said she had him at 'cheeky side quest', she couldn't believe it!

"Oh! Really? Just like that?"

You'd think she'd be a bit more grateful, but she was never particularly good at hiding her surprise.

Her brain was still reeling from the fact that he hadn’t turned her away, let alone that he was agreeing to follow the letter's instructions with her. It took Div a long beat to remember what should follow when someone introduced themself to you.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, no. No worries about that." The sight of a bag of jelly sweets was actually very calming to her.

Shaking her head as if to snap out of lag she was suffering through, she took his hand and gave it a shake.

“Div,” she introduced herself. Then added quickly, “Ya. Divya. Sorry, I’m all out of sorts. I pretty much thought you’d run me off with a shoe or something.” She gave a sheepish sort of smile.

When he suggested they get going, she blinked at how readily he was on board, especially given how timid he seemed.

"Right, okay then. Yeah, off we go." She started toward the door, fingers coming up to grip the strap of her bag in an effort to steady herself.

He was far more 'on this' than she was. Determined to pull her weight, Divya brought the letter up to refresh herself on its contents and read out their first step.

"So, first things first: find a stranger. We've done that. Second is no na— oh." Wide-eyed, she glanced at him briefly. "Seems we weren't supposed to know each other's names..." She revealed the reason for her reaction. "But nevermind that, right? What the letter doesn't know won't hurt it."

Almost immediately, she felt the urge to kick herself. Assigning consciousness to a letter? Oh, her therapist was going to be dissecting through a lot the next time they sat down for a session.

So there went his Thursday night, he thought bitterly, loitering around just to scribble in the margins of some collection of Greek poetry. His minor act of vandalism was interrupted not by some stuffy, bespectacled librarian with a stick up their ass, but by an entirely different type of stranger. He stopped his internal observations there. Taru's expression stayed blank as he looked at the note in her hand, and then at her face. After a second passed, he snapped the book closed. "Nope."

He shoved the book into a shelf at random, lacking any real respect for Dewey and his so-called system. "I'm one of those children who were left behind," he continued, a step up from the noncommittal grunts he usually reserved for people he didn't know. "Never learned to read."

Nope.

"You hardly looked at it..." She couldn't help but point out, still holding out the letter.

Her gaze flicked briefly to the shelf where he’d shoved the book, wondering if it even belonged there or if he had just carelessly stuffed it back.

Every word out of his mouth after that was equally unhelpful.

"Is that so?" She questioned without any real interest, though she humored him anyway. "And is your being here tonight some kind of attempt at learning then?"

She wasn't an idiot. She figured he could read. But this man clearly enjoyed being smart aleck for the heck of it. Unluckily for him, Pippa had a well of patience — and a textbook she was in no hurry to return to.

as the other girl went on to talk about her own compliments, charlie watched her, taking in her features as she tried to come up with a time she was complimented. it was a little sad, she didn't know this girl at all but she could already tell there were many things she should be getting compliments about. when the stranger finally found a compliment, that didn't even sound like a compliment, charlie couldn't help but frown. "shit dude, that doesn't sounds like a good compliment, i mean, unless your goal is to look like a grandpa. which i do have a couple friends who would probably liked to hear that."

charlie was never really the type of person to think before she spoke, so when the thought popped into her mind, it was coming out of her mouth a second later. this wasn't apart of the challenge, but the stranger gave her a compliment so she was going to return the favor. "i've only known you for like ten minutes, but i can already tell you're really kind and i think you might be a good friend to have. i mean, shit, especially if you give me a practical gift." she let out a quick laugh. "plus you have really pretty hair, girl red heads are always cute."

"Oh, it wasn't," Kennedy admitted with a soft laugh. "But the letter didn't specify if this had to be a good compliment you'd never forget, so... you know, saw that loophole and figured I'd take it."

She shook her head fondly before replying, "no, I don't purposefully dress grandpa-chic. I think my taste in clothes sometimes lean that way unfortunately." She was a big fan of a buttoned shirt or a sweater. Sometimes, both layered together if she was feeling a little crazy.

"Not that I mind," she was quick to add. "I'm cozy and prepared for a shift in weather most days of the week, and that makes me happy." At the end of the day, that was what mattered, right? Kennedy was always a comfort-above-all-else-slash-function-over-fashion type of girl.

Embarrassment wasn't unusual for Kennedy. She’d long been the designated butt of the joke on her team, so she's gotten used to taking teasing in stride. Though that didn't mean she wasn't more than happy to move on from the second question. But then the stranger complimented her. Like, really complimented her. One after another in this totally sweet and sincere way. Kennedy couldn't help the warmth that bloomed in her chest — and her cheeks if she was being honest.

"Okay, wow. Thank you for saying that. That's so sweet?" Hand on her chest, Kennedy was in disbelief. Not of this girl's kindness, but that she could think of so many nice things to say about Kennedy in such a short amount of time knowing each other. "I'll have a really good answer now the next time someone asks me this question," she said proudly, bobbing her head with enthusiasm.

"And the clarification of girl redheads... so real of you. Men that have red hair scare me. I'm like, hey buddy, we are not carved from the same cloth." It reminded her of this insane thing that happened to her last Halloween. "One of my teammates actually tried to scare me with a cardboard cutout of Ed Sheeran once. Literally had him in my shower, so you can imagine how freaked out I was when I pulled back the curtain."

Kennedy listened intently as the girl rattled off birthdays with ease, each one making her grin a little wider.

"That's so nice that you and that girl became best friends," Kennedy commented, finding that endearing. "And honestly, I feel like you should get bonus points for knowing your best friend's boyfriend's birthday. That's a whole 'nother level of date remembering."

She laughed when the stranger said they might make it to the corner store if she kept listing birthdays.

"Oh, I so believe you. I will take that burden off your shoulders by giving this my best go." Though before she did, she had to clarify something. "Now, I wouldn't say I'm bad at remembering important dates, but I'm a big notetaker. Biiiiig Google Calendar enthusiast. So over the years, I've relied on my memory less and less and outsourced a lot... But okay yeah, I'm stalling. Here we go—"

She took a deep breath before beginning her list.

"My dad? June 30th. My mom?" A beat of hesitation before she answered, "November 19th." Kennedy pressed on quickly, not wanting to linger on thoughts of her mother long.

"One of my best friends on the team, Deen, her birthday is [insert date here I'll ask Charlie lmao]. My roommate, Beth, is October 12th. Or no, wait, I actually think she might be Sept... no, Oct... fuck. Okay, it's the 12th. I'm so sure of the date. Just the month is a little fuzzy." She shook her head, half-tempted to take her phone out and check. "But anyway, you clearly win at this. I do still remember my locker combination from senior year of high school though — if that counts for anything."

Content to accept defeat, she lifted the paper up to find the next question of their list.

In her best Transatlantic accent, she affected Ms. Hepburn's cadence as well as she could—and she had plenty of practice—when she quoted: "The time to make up your mind about people... is never." Her grin turned a little sheepish. "I bet Tracy would have a lot to say about containing multitudes."

No names. A mystery wrapped in an enigma. Alice nodded, the corners of her mouth pulled downward in an expression of intrigued agreement. "Robbie. Very friendly. Very approachable. Very laidback. So far, that seems like it tracks." She took the book when it was offered to her, quickly flipping through the pages as they walked. She stopped at random on a photo of a woman assessing a garment.

"Well shit, someone call Old Hollywood," he began gassing her up as they made their way toward The Nook. "One of their stars is on the loose. What are you even doing here? Aren't you needed on set or something?" He gently knocked his elbow against her arm, playful and easy.

"That was solid. Seriously. Is it just transatlantic or do you have like a Princess Diana up your sleeve too?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes lingered on her a beat too long.

When she settled on a name, 'Robbie' leaned over to get a peek of what this Ester Perbandt looked like. With their height difference, it was pretty easy to get a glimpse of the page she was on. He bobbed his head in approval. "Esther. Dig it."

"Oh, I'm writing a paper on gendered participation in streetwear culture, " he revealed casually, though inwardly feeling quite proud of the topic he landed on. "I'm grounding it in Angela McRobbie's theoretical framework," he explained further. "She's got a lot of good stuff on post-feminism, fashion, and media, so it was a no-brainer to anchor my stuff with her ideas." He was trying to be super chill about it, but he hoped she’d ask more — half wanting to impress her, half excited to share what he'd come up with.

as the other girl went on to explain how she gives impersonal gifts, charlie had a feeling that this girl was so type a and thought about everything. the complete opposite of charlie herself. honestly, she'd probably make a good friend if they ever spoke after this night. "that's actually really smart," she says, turning her head to look at her. "i'd never think of something like that, something they could actually use. i may have to steal that from you in the future."

as they move on to the next question, charlie shoves her hands in her pockets just for something to do in the awkwardness. her first instinct was to lie, make up something about her eyes or her hair and just move on, but the whole point of this was to open up right? to stop and be honest with yourself or something? so rather than lying, charlie looked down at the sidewalk as she told the truth. "when i was in, like, the fifth grade, some asshole kids used to bully me and make fun of my nose. they'd call me cindy lou who, you know like from the grinch." she shuddered at the memory. "anyway, there was this popular girl in our class who told everyone to shut up and said i had a cute nose. i was pretty self conscience back then so it meant a lot to me."

For only the second question on this list, Kennedy founded it exceptionally loaded. Or was that just her own insecurity bubbling up the surface. A compliment you'll never forget? That was a pretty high bar. She couldn’t even recall the last time anyone had complimented her. Rather than spiral over it, she pushed the thought aside and turned her attention to whatever story the stranger beside her was about to share.

They'd call me Cindy Lou Who, you know like from The Grinch. Kennedy's mouth fell open. God, kids could be cruel. She let out an affronted huff.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that. And that girl was right, you do have a really cute nose," she insisted sincerely, her hand briefly finding the stranger's shoulder before falling between them again. "Fifth graders suck."

Her mouth sat in a dissatisfied twist as they walked along, feeling for the stranger beside her. And then she remembered the end of their story meant the start of hers.

"Okay, I don't mean to cop out but like, I genuinely can't remember the last time I got complimented in a real way. Not just, hey, you did a good job in goals today." She shook her head, feeling like a downer for not having something equally vulnerable to share.

"I've been told I'm dependable though," she offered, trying to rescue the moment. "And that I'm really neat."

Feeling like the situation was fast dwindling, she desperately scoured her mind for something, genuinely feeling like she was grasping at straws with the amount of nothing she was coming up with. Until—

"Oh! Wait, I lied, I have something. I totally have something."

Amusement and embarrassment warred for presence on her face as she recalled the memory.

"One time, this girl said she really liked my outfit... that it reminded her of her grandpa." She scrunched her nose, warmth crawling up her neck, before she let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, I think that's something I chose to block out because otherwise I'd never forget it." She shook her head. "Probably not the kind of compliment this letter meant, but now that I've reminded myself of it, it's definitely going to revisit me vividly every night before I fall asleep."

She glanced down at her outfit briefly and felt relieved to find it wasn't anything that might remind someone of their grandfather. Just jeans, a green shirt, and a brown corduroy jacket. Still, the warmth lingering in her cheeks begged for distraction, so she went on to read the next question.

"Forgive me. You are a kaleidoscope of personalities," she said, shrugging on the blue-and-white knitted sweater she had left draped over the back of her chair. "It reminds me... Have you ever seen The Philadelphia Story? It has Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart in it."

As she slid her laptop into its case, she admitted, "Okay, here's the thing. You've given me a perfect excuse to indulge in one of my favorite pastimes: the old siren song of procrastination. It seems ungrateful to turn down such a gift when so graciously offered."

There was no paper or project that Alice didn't leave until the 11th hour, unfortunately. From middle school through college, it led to many late nights and a forever-altered sleep schedule. But between Wikipedia spiraling and a subscription to TCM, it was hard to resist the temptation of straying off course. She was a pretty good student overall, but a poor academic.

After placing her laptop safely in her backpack, Alice pushed up the sleeve of her sweater to check the time on her old Casio. "If we hoof it, we can make it to The Nook before they close up. We wouldn't be able to stick around inside for too long, though." She pulled a strap over one shoulder, and then the other. "What do you think?"

"Philadelphia Story..." He repeated, trying to pin down why that title sounded familiar. "I think I've stood around while my mom's watched it... She loves old-timey movies like that." Not that Elias didn't appreciate cinema from like, 50 years ago. They were super aesthetic and total art; he just preferred modern stuff. "It's kind of like Mamma Mia, right? Just without all the fun music?"

At her suggestion, Elias agreed easily. "The Nook sounds good to me. And hey, I can walk and sip. It's no biggie to me if it isn't for you. We could always find some other place to sit too."

Once they made it out of the library, Elias retrieved the letter from his jacket pocket and gave himself a refresh of its contents.

"Okay, find a stranger... check. No names?" Elias glanced to the side at said stranger, get a feel of how she might have felt about that rule. "It says: use something from the book as a placeholder." With his mouth pursed, he reached for the book in his back pocket to scan it for a name.

Fashion as Creative Economy Angela McRobbie Daniel Strutt Carolina Bandinelli

"Okay, how about you call me... Robbie?" He suggested with a quick shrug of his shoulder. "I could pass for a Robbie, right?"

"yeah, totally," she says as they walk to the exit, already forgetting the list of questions they were supposed to answer. whoever wrote that letter must have put a lot of thought into all of it. some random person also stuck in the library wasting their time stuck in books. she wondered if there were more letters stashed away in the books somewhere. "hmm i don't know, i feel like i'm the worst at that. like just some basic stuff. like a candle for my freshman roommate i barely saw between classes even though we weren't allowed to have candles in the dorm. i guess i just see something that is not personal so it doesn't matter if they like it or not." as they got to the exit, charlie pushed open the door to cool night air and held it open for the other. "what about you?"

"A candle is a classic gift," she said with a grin. "Contraband in dorms or not."

Always one to be courteous, Kennedy was quick to say 'thank you' when she stepped through the held-open door before launching into her answer.

"Well, I love gifting a practical gift." Anyone who actually knew her wouldn't be surprised by that answer. "Something people could find everyday use for that they don't really think to get themselves. Like a fancier unlined notebook or a nice, scented hand cream. Ooh, one of those handheld fans. I think those are really great too." She was biased. She loved an outdoor adventure, so something like that would get a lot of use if it was gifted to her.

Once outside of the library, Kennedy pointed left, pairing the motion with a "this way" before starting in said direction. She took the letter out of her back pocket to read the next question.

"Okay, this next one says: what is one compliment you’ve received that you’ll never forget?"

"I admire your confidence in the creativity of the future stockbrokers and research scientists of this world," she started, her eyes scanning the words as she placed her protein bar onto the table. Though maybe he was right: it did sort of read like a more in-depth, more poetic icebreaker a couple of suits might have to hack through for the sake of team bonding. The secondhand embarrassment that made her want to wither away while watching The Office with friends might've been detrimental in remembering a good chunk of the plots, but she did catch a corporate trustfall or two between her fingers.

"The only kind of elaborate scheme I suspected was that you were one of those guys who like, hawks energy drinks at music festivals and sports events, practicing his lines," she continued jokingly, still wrapping her head around the letter. "I half-expected you to unzip and reveal a neon shirt with the words 'UNLEASH THE BEAST' on it." Alice smiled a little, handing the paper back to him. "But if you're just a Good Samaritan, then that changes things." She closed her laptop with a dull click, then reached for her backpack by her feet. "So who's the parabolic stranger you're helping here: the person with the maybe-dying wish or me?"

Though his mouth was in an amused mile, a faint scoff left him.

"Woooow, okay." He bobbed his head as he took the letter back from her. "I can contain multitudes too, you know?"

To prove his point, Elias stood and unzipped his Carhartt jacket to reveal a white shirt with a small drawing of Snoopy on it and the text 'i bet on losing dogs'.

"But a neon shirt that says 'UNLEASH THE BEAST' does sound kind of sick. I'll be on the look out for one next time I thrift," he added, punctuating the words with a smirk. She wasn’t bruising his ego that easily.

"Well, it was just maybe-dying wish person," he said as he moved away from his seat to push it back under the table. "But you did close that laptop quick, so something tells me you don't hate having an excuse to get out of here."

This is a 'yes', right? He was taking her packing up her things as a sign that she was in for whatever that ride this letter would take them on — which was a trip to the nearest cafe or coffee shop. He took his book from off the table and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"So... know any places that are open right now, or should I hit Google with the ol' 'coffee shop near me'?"

eyes scanning over the page, she had to admit, she understood the appeal of it. it was like something you'd see in a hallmark movie. a stranger finds a mysterious note and listens to do and ends up making a life long friendship or finding the love of their life or something. and hey, charlie was never one to turn down a new friend.

flipping the paper over, she read the questions they would have to answer. a little weird and kind of personal, but some of them were things she had never even thought about before. "fuck it, why not?" she finally announces with a smile, holding the paper back out to her. "what's the worst that can happen? even if this is stupid and a total bust, we can at least grab a redbull or something before going our separate ways." she pulled out her phone to check the time and was a little shocked to see how late it actually was. god, the hours flew by and she barely learned anything. "what do you think will be open this late? i don't think we're going to find much in the terms of gifts at the gas station."

"Yeah?" She said with a wide-eyed blink. She couldn't believe it, taking the letter back from the other girl to hold onto.

"Right, exactly. What's the worst that could happen? If it goes bad, it's just another embarrassing moment to add to the list — of which I have plenty already, so really, nothing new." She laughed lightly at the dig she'd made at herself.

"I think a corner store is our best bet," she offered. "I know there's one a couple of blocks from here. Won't take five minutes." Then being the haver of back-up plans she was, Kennedy tacked on, "worst case, we check out of the Lost & Found when we get back."

Tugging the strap of her bag higher up on her shoulder, she looked left and right, orienting herself on where she was in the library before turning her body toward the exit she knew.

"Should we knock out our first question?" She asked, tilting her head toward the way out.

slapping her laptop screen closed, charlie raked her hands over her eyes, pressed hard against her eye sockets to rub the sleep that was threatening to over take her. she needed to move, stretch her legs and get her blood pumping.

walking through the aisles with her phone in hand, charlie almost missed that someone was talking to her. "huh? what?" she says before the girl's words registers a second later. "no, not really. i mean, i should be studying but if i see one more equation, i may pluck my eyes out. what's up?"

"I found this letter." She held it up, feeling something akin to excitement or anxiety building in her chest. "It was left in a book. By goodness knows who. And it essentially asks the person who found the letter—" She tipped the letter in her direction. "—to find a stranger—" She tilts the paper in the stranger's direction now. "—and go on this... truly simple and harmless little quest in the name of making college memories."

She then held the letter out for the person to take and fell quiet for a minute, giving them some space to process it all.

"I know it sounds deranged. And cheesy." God, so cheesy. "But hey, we're both here losing our minds half past midnight. Why not take the excuse for a break, right?"

She stared at the person hopefully, thinking please don't think I'm insane and please, please don't say no.

Her pulse was racing now. The whole schpiel got her more worked up than she realized, heat creeping up her neck as she picked up on how breathless she sounded.

“Would you… be so incredibly kind,” she managed, “to humor me and this letter for just thirty minutes of your time?”