[center][h3]Kirsty Ramawamy[/h3][/center]

Steadily more students filtered into the common area, whether just to pass through or to while away some time before their various classes began. Try as she might Kirsty found it tough to concentrate, and she ended up glancing around quite often to the people congregating nearby. She recognized a number of faces that she couldn't assign names, having exchanged pleasantries with them last year but never gotten the chance to know them. As more young men and women arrived they formed groups, chatting about this or that, Kirsty became more and more aware of a nagging, irritating feeling, like the itch of a bug bite. 

Nobody seemed to recognize her, or else they did and felt no need to talk to her. In the midst of a number of people she more or less knew, she felt remarkably alone. [i]Why?[/i] Not for the first time, she launched a hunt for a reason. After all, considering her outgoing and obliging nature, there [i]had[/i] to be a reason why people didn't consider her a friend, or an approachable acquaintance. Maybe they wanted to prioritize their best friends? No, Kirsty suspected it was because she was t[i]too[/i] amicable. In this impersonal day and age, someone who grew too close to people's precious personal space was a weirdo. But it wasn't like Kirsty could dial it back. If she acted as impersonally as the average person, how would she stand out? How would she set the example? She couldn't let herself be along for the ride, indifferently sliding through each day without caring for her fellow man. People were meant to be together.

So why did she end up alone?

The buzz of her phone woke her from her daze with a start. She stared at her laptop's screen for a moment, watching the little line blinking halfway through an incomplete sentence in her text document, as she extracted her phone from her bag. A glance at the caller ID did not leave her feeling any more at ease. It read 'Drew Whittney', and those words left a pit in her stomach. Nevertheless, she couldn't very well ignore a phone call, so she swiped up on her phone's surface and held the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, sugar!”

Kirsty winced. “Um, hi, Drew...”

A moment of expectant silence passed by. Fidgeting and quite unable to fill it, Kirsty could only wonder about her caller's intentions. Then the boy's voice reached her again. “So...do you have anything to say to me?”

Kirsty stiffened. She had nothing. Did she forget something? Did...he expect her to say something affectionate back to him? Ever since that evening at Swingers a few months ago, he seemed to consider her more than a friend. With how depressed he'd been at the time, Kirsty had wanted to try and lift his spirits, even to the point of paying for the golfing session herself. To him, though, it seemed like that tied some kind of knot between them, and ever since the trepidatious boy had gotten a lot bolder with her. She wanted to say something to set the record straight, but she didn't want to make him feel bad. Her stomach crawled. “Hello...darling?”

Drew's laughter crackled through the phone. “No, silly goose, it's my birthday! Don't tell me you forgot?”

Kirsty suffered a brief moment of silence. “...I'm sorry.”

“Hey, no worries,” Drew assured her. “Tell ya what, you can make it up for me with dinner in Sky Garden! It's the perfect romantic spot, and with school heating up again, I figured we could both take some time to enjoy ourselves!”

“That sounds...lovely, but...”

Drew continued, “And, I've been pretty low on cash lately, and I paid for us at that cafe last week, so I figured you could take this one maybe? Goes both ways, don't it? Think of it as your birthday present to me.”

Kirsty's grip on her phone tightened. “Um, sure, but didn't we both say we'd help June move flats tonight?”

“Pssh. Is that really more important than my birthday? Besides, why wouldja wanna help someone who's talkin' behind your back?”

“What?” A chill ran down Kirsty's back.

A sigh came over the line. “Look, love. I didn't want to be the one to tell ya, but June's been tellin' Erin she should kick ya outta the band. She says you're bringin' the whole thing down.”

The image of June scowling at Kirsty after the low-turnout performance in Jenning's Pub last week flashed through her mind. At the time it didn't seem like the face was directed at her, but could she have been wrong? Seen something different because it wasn't what she wanted to see? Distraught, she stammered, “I-I know I haven't been doing my best lately, but I still want to help the band succeed! June wants me out? You can't be serious.”

In the pause that ensued, Kirsty heard Drew swallow over the phone. “Well,” he said after a moment. “I'm sorry, but that's how it is. I gotta be honest with you, Kirst: everyone knows you're the weak link.”

“No...” Kirsty sank into her chair, her laptop sliding to one side, where it luckily caught on the armrest before falling to the floor. She felt like a deflated balloon. She knew it was true. “But I've been trying so hard...”

Drew quickly reassured her. “I know love, I know. You're doin' the best ya can. That's why I'm fightin' to keep ya in. Tryin' to convince 'em you're just in a slump. 'Cause you're special to me, yeah? Workin' so hard, always smilin', the nicest and prettiest girl there is.”

Kirsty felt gratitude well up inside her. Even if Drew was a little weird, he could still appreciate her, appreciate all the effort she put in to be good. Whatever the reason, she had someone in her corner. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I won't let you down. I'll show June and Erin I can get out of this slump and really pull my weight.”

“That's great!” Drew said. “So, we on for tonight?”

For a moment Kirsty considered her bank account. She didn't have the money for dinner for two in Sky Garden. But this was a special occasion, and she needed to reward the faith Drew put in her. Or he might turn against her too. “...Okay. Yeah, I think I can manage.”

She could practically hear him grinning. “Sweet! I'll see ya tonight then, sugar. Buh-bye!”

He hung up before she could say anything, and then Kirsty was alone again, sprawled like a lazy dog in one of the common room couches. Mechanically she put her phone away, then stared at the screensaver that had overtaken her laptop. Hopefully she hadn't been too loud.