Crowded rooms and noisy chatter, Leave me feeling drained, the spirit tattered. People are like waves, crashing in, Their energy demanding, their words a din.

Friends and parties may have their allure, But I prefer being alone, that’s for sure. So while others socialize and roam, I’ll be in the comfort of my own home.

It’s a quiet street that Maria’s brought me to, an unassuming American suburb. The house she just parked in front of looks like it should host a small middle-class family—I can imagine a couple of brown-eyed kids playing tag in the backyard under the watch of their careworn parents—but it turns out this blue-painted house with its cream shutters and neatly manicured lawn belongs to the supposedly gifted artist Maria wanted me to meet.

“This is it?” I ask Maria, still studying the house through the car window.

“Yep. This is Ava’s place.” She rummages in her center console for a lip balm and applies it in the rear view mirror.

I pick up the small portfolio I brought with and flip it open, checking that everything is safe inside. “It’s not what I was expecting.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. When I think ‘artist,’ I tend to think of a tiny studio apartment in the city, not a 1940s Ford executive’s family home.”

“Well, don’t be so quick to judge. Artists living in the city struggle pretty much universally. She’s got to be doing well to support herself in an area like this.”

“True.”

“And anyway, you live in the city. You’re surrounded by artists. So you project that stereotype onto every non-urban artist you meet.”

“That might be a bit of a stretch, but sure. I see what you mean.”

“Cool.” Maria grabs her sketchbook and purse. “Let’s go inside. I don’t wanna keep her waiting.”

We walk up the driveway together and ring the doorbell. A moment later, the door is opened by a bright smile and shiny brown ponytail.

“Hi, guys! Come in!” Ava beckons us through the door.

“Ava, it’s so good to see you!” Maria and Ava hug each other.

“Oh my goodness, you too. I’m so glad we could arrange this!” Ava beams and then turns to me. “You must be Jan!”

I smile. “Yes, I am. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” I shake Ava’s hand.

“Likewise. I’ve heard so many good things about you and your artwork.”

Ava invites us within and urges us to make ourselves at home. We sit at the kitchen table and chat over some snacks about recent projects and exhibitions and so forth. My attention keeps returning to the cleanliness of the house and neatness of the decorations and furniture. It’s a direct contrast to my own apartment, where everything lays about in hodgepodge piles and there’s no warm homeliness to be found.

Ava is all friendliness and cheer and childlike excitement, with no business or professionalism or shrewdness to be found in her ongoing display of hospitality. She doesn’t seem worried about work or anything else—a trait that is very unlike what I’ve seen in myself and other artists. Doing art for a living is pure stress for me—always worrying about deadlines and how and where I’ll be able to sell a sculpture I’m not even entirely happy with. The small talk has been going on for almost an hour, so I decide to cut to the chase myself. I want to find out what Ava needs from me.

I gesture to the binder Maria brought into the house. “Maria, may I see what’s in your portfolio?” I’m disregarding the discussion they were just having about the hike in paint prices, but I’m impatient enough to forgive myself for my lack of manners.

“Yeah!” She pushes the binder in my direction. “Ava, those are the drafts I was telling you about,” she added.

“Wonderful! I’d be happy to take a look at them,” Ava replies, then turns to me. “Jan, I hear you’re a sculptor. I have a client—and personal friend—who owns a supply store. She sells professional-grade art materials and her clientele is growing fast. She wants to create a department solely catering to sculpture and is looking for a talented artist like yourself to do some sculpting for demonstration and advertising. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

I like the idea. It is, if nothing else, guaranteed commissions for a while. And it might help me get my name out there, too.

“Yes, I’d be interested. How can I contact her?”

“If you don’t object, we could go to her store together now. You could meet her and discuss the finer points.”

I look at Maria, who nods.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s do it!”

A half hour later, we’re sitting at another table in a clean and tidy room, but this time in the presence of a short woman wearing rectangular glasses and more sculpting supplies than I’ve ever seen at once in my life. Ava introduces Maria and me, and we get to talking. Before long I have myself a nice little commission deal. Six months of sculpting ahead of me. Nikki, Ava’s friend, informs me that there may be an opportunity for me to run a sculpture class here in the future, if all goes well. My heart leaps at the prospect.

I guess I’ll start here and see what happens.

They were driving to the store and on the way back from getting food and then we were heading back to the house then before that the driver who drove the car ran and crash in to the other car and was in a accident.

“And what do you think people think of you?” Glenda says. To be honest, I think she only became a therapist to gossip

I roll my eyes and get comfy in the sofa.

“Let’s see” I sigh. “They think I’m shy. When really I just don’t like them.”

“And why don’t you like any of your classmates” she says in a hiss

Why? I just don’t.

“Becauseeeee” I grumble. “They are like leeches. Sucking my energy until I run dry.”

I never considered my self social, nor anti-social. I just happen to feel drained by all the people around me.

“Quinn” she says. “I want you to really think hard about how you can change your attitude about people. And then you’ll see it becomes much easier to make friends!”

She proudly gives herself a nod of validation which she desperately needs. Yet sadly, today I can’t gratify her with that.

“Listen” I say leaning forward. “It’s not an attitude. It’s just my social battery or whatever. I swear I’m not a robot, but these kids are really sucking the youth out of me. After a long day of school I need to watch a movie or whip out a sketch book and unwind.”

Its hard for extroverts to understand how draining school can be for introverts. Alas, I shall go home, and recharge.

sonder: the realization that each stranger who drives pass you on the street or crossing a sidewalk experiences a life as vivid and complex is an observant way to perceive things is defined as sonder the time this emotion i related with was encountering a homeless person and pitying them because you’re more fortunate for the things you’re provided for free the tasks you have to responsible for is filling up your own gas, affording your own food to buy, and impressing your boss at your job puts pressure of you to be perfect and unflawed lending money to live performances of instruments in nyc providing donations sharing coins because it can financially assist them in supporting themselves being generous to others is a rewarding deed to feel proud of you made a difference in someone’s life who was in desperate need

serendipity finding something good without looking for it defines this watching bees pollinate honey teaches you to respect nature by watering plants daily so it nourishes because they’re in charge of supplying the honey sold in stores that can only be distributed with visiting each flower acknowledging this can make you realize the significance provided by the behavior in bees

brontide the low rumble of distinct thunder defines how its normal to express your emotions on don’t feel ashamed of being excited about something that someone else doesn’t match your energy or thinks you’re over exaggerating even the weather expresses it its mood through rumbling sounds and people react by holding umbrellas to shield themselves it continues to announce how it feels loudly transitioning from quiet to noisy

balter defines by proving to dance without skill but still demonstrates confidence this implies that even if you’re not an expert at a skill practice makes perfect attempting it is what counts you will advance in your training with more experience if you have faith and patience

serein defines the light amount of rain falling from the sky also translates to drizzling anticipation of a rainstorm this implies that believing in the positive increases the chance of it being reality such as your lover gaining courage to confess their feelings in return and relief communiting only skinny love expressed through text or reuniting with family saving up your money for the plane trip or receiving a score you hoped for with your hard work paying off represents this sight of anticipating

hireath defines as homesick to a home you cant return to but still desiring it this could revisit the feeling of having a sleepover and missing the backyard you jumped on their trampoline with or staying the night at your relatives house and them meeting your expectations tasting their cooking skills offering you their food that was authentic cuisine you want to relive or finding comfort in a singer’s home i link this feeling to conan gray because he always hung up polaroids reminding me of the nostalgic feeling taking photobooth pictures with my friends it was thoughtful he displayed them on his wall it clearly admitted he cared about his friends he also participated in an art contest which brings me to my next word described

aesthete the beauty of art or nature that causes a sentimental mood to affect you

the way art can affect your mood is influential because warm colors welcome a joyful feeling of viewing a bright sunrise and in contact with it on your skin the colors of cool demonstrated on the color wheel suggest a emotion mood portrayed by the blue color you can visualize a gloomy sky hearing thunderstorms rumbling

metanoia is my last word i’ll be defining this is the process of changing your point of view way of thinking mindset such as rehearsing positive affirmations to yourself to boost your confidence every day complimenting yourself keeping in mind that being generous of gifting people and putting others first and acknowledging quantity of a present matters more than quality is crucial for being awarded eternal life by God proving that you spread kindness just as he showed us sacrificing himself for our mistakes to be forgiven and purified Amen

"Okay, pro: Free food."

She's got a point there.

"Con: Madison Rivers." I say, scrunching my nose. She's always hated my guts. I'd call her homophobic, but this actually all started from when I still thought babies came from storks.

"Fair enough..." Em squints her eyes in thought and I zone out thinking about the third-grade girls soccer team I got kicked out of for punching Maddy in her stupid, shit-talking face.

"Oh! Pro:" I'm startled out of thought as I see Em's smiling face light up at the end of the bed, "You can bring your camera. Parties are good practice for like, low-light-aperature-contrast-whatever, right?"

That's what I love about her. Whenever she doesn't know something, she just spits out a bunch of words she's heard other people say about it. You should hear her when she gets an oil change. It's like, 'I think the piston's brake-transmission-tire-pressure fluid is low". It drives men insane, which is one of her favourite pastimes.

"Oh my god. At least you tried." I give her some credit, but she just shrugs.

I had already decided beforehand to go to the party, not just to make Em happy, but because I think it'll be a good time. So, this list is now just to have some fun.

"Con: Hot chicks".

"Pffft! As if you'd ever put that on a cons list!"

Yeah, she's right.

"Okay, okay... Con: Tomorrow's hangover." I take notice of how uncomfortable our second-hand mattress is, and think about how much worse it would be with a blasting headache.

"Oh c'mon, everyone knows the pro to that con is the getting drunk part." If her eyes could roll any further, she'd be looking out the back of her head.

"Okay, fine. Con: Getting drunk. What if I break my camera?!" I say, matter-of-factly. It's not a real concern, I can always just put it in the car. Honestly, I'm just trying to match her energy at this point.

I can feel her death stare on my face, "You can't just spin my pro into your con!" She blares, much higher-pitched than before.

Oh no, now I've done it.

"Says who?!" I say, attempting to be more assertive than her; an impossible feat.

"The! Rules!" She crawled up from the footboard and came to stratle me, hoping to change my mind.

"What rules?!" I ask, trying to hide a smile.

"The same rules that say you should pretty please stop arguing with me and go change into something nice so we're not late!" Her face was hovering over mine now, her playful smirk and body pressed to mine made for a very convincing plead.

"Nah, I think I'll show up naked." I joke, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Ha! So you ARE coming!?"

"On one condition..." I slowly look her body up and down. Damn, if I wasn't already convinced, this would have done it for sure.

Em leans in closer, her hand starting to wander, and whispers into my mouth, "Anything".

I pull her ear to my lips as her hand reaches my waist.

"You're driving".

I spin out from under her and her jaw drops as I head to the closet to pick out an outfit. All I can feel are her eyes death-staring two laser beams into the back of my head.

Yeah. It's gonna be a fun party.

Hello, my name is Brent Rockton I am a college junior, 17 years old I have the best grades in the class However, that part is never told

The only thing that’s told about me Is that I’m just the shy, nervous dork I’m always kicked around all over school Like an armless, legless piece of pork

I guess you can call me the outcast But I honestly don’t care what you think To me, being different from them is fun And I’d honestly prefer not to grow, but shrink

For kids will never truly understand The benefits of being quiet and to the side They’re always loving and hanging out Instead of swallowing their gigantic pride

Seeing an introverted person sitting alone at lunch irritated Mirches. They’re so out of touch with the world and she couldn’t see how anyone didn’t like talking that much.

Mirches could barely go ten seconds without talking, however, she did understand that when people come to high school everyone’s clique is already established amongst themselves. So obviously, it’s hard to join in and have some friends. But nonetheless, that’s not going to stop her.

Mirches hops from her chair, approaching a boy, whom often is by their self.

Mirches slams her hand on his table catching his attention. She looks him in the eye and says, “Come sit with me.”

The boy nervously shifts his eyes back and forth, and awkwardly replied, “Uh, do I know you?”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself; I’m Mirches Pelimaiz, I like to talk a lot and you like to be quiet. We’re gonna be best friends!” She geeks.

The boy awkwardly laughs at her, responding, “Okay… ‘best friend’.”

Mirches gazes at him for a long time, seemingly waiting for something out of him.

“What?” The boy questioned oddly.

“Well, what is your name!” She geeks again.

The boy chuckles a bit. “I’m Kitajin Difonzis.”

“So, Kitajin, what do you like to do?” Mirches sits next to him, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

“I like to play football.” He tells her.

Mirches eyes widened as she says, “Wow! Really?”

Kitajin nods his head.

“Well, I can see that. You built like Dwayne Johnson.”

They burst out laughing, then she tells him, “Well, I like to write poetry and sing Disney songs when I’m bored.”

“That’s cool.” He causally remarks.

“Yeah, I sing Hannah Montana sometimes.”

Kitajin laughs again while Mirches keeps a poker face, like, it’s nothing.

But at least he’s having a good time. So far, it’s starting off good with Mirches, but it led her curious to ask, “So, um, why are you alone again?”

Kitajin shrugged his shoulders. “Most of my friends are in detention or taking a test.”

“Okay… I’m going back to my friends table. Tomorrow, I better see you talking to somebody, mister!” She teased, as she gets up.

“Okay, but what if I can’t find somebody, it’s hard.”

“Who cares! Who cares how hard it is, just live life! You only live once. YOLO!” She says, as she dips while Kitajin laughs again.

The next day she comes to the cafeteria, seeing Kitajin sitting alone again. “Oh gosh!” She mumbled, marching to his table.

Once again, she slams her hand on his table and ask, “Why are you alone again? I told you go get some friends, chump!”

Kitajin giggles telling her, “Maybe I was waiting on you.” Intimately locking eyes with her.

Mirches turns away saying, “Oh, don’t make me blush, you dog.” She giggles flirtatiously. She turns back around saying, “Lets go to the movies this Saturday, you dog.”

Kitajin chuckles asking, “Alright, which one?”

“Let’s go watch ‘Dancing With Pain’.”

“Can we not watch a depressing movie.” Kitajin knitted an eyebrow. “Let’s watch something like… Code Stupid.”

Mirches rolls her eyes, and said, “Fine. But next time, we’re seeing Dancing With Pain.”

“Fine by me. It’s a date.”

Can we all just be a bit quieter in here? Sorry, but you need to tone it down. I’m not being rude, I’m just saying-just asking if you can lower the volume. I know you want to have fun, and I get it. I’m not one of those people. I’m not the police or anything, or a swat, or anything like that. But it’s very easy to chat quietly. I’m just saying. Please, it’s giving me a headache.

Why do you always feel the need to produce so much noise? Couldn’t you practice your fruitless tasks with slightly less overwhelm? How am I supposed to philosophise and create profound things when your pointlessness is always in my ear. I can’t think. Have you ever considered that? Can you think about how you override everyone else’s thoughts with your conversations that, may I add, seem completely superficial and unimportant. Us over here, are exercising something greater than you could ever think of. So, please, could you stop being on autopilot for a second and let us be?

Oh, how I’d love the chance to show you.

He wasn’t the quiet kid. At least he didn’t consider himself to be the quiet kid. He spoke when he had something to say and didn’t waste his breath otherwise. He sat in the back of his classes. He kept earbuds in while walking the hallways but no one knew there was never anything playing. When the bell rang at the start of first period, he would act as though he hadn’t heard the guys next to him throwing insults his way. He couldn’t hear them calling him a waste of space. That his drunk father didn’t even give him the time of day. There’s nothing more set in stone than the mindsets of teenagers anyways.

Mrs. Briggs yelled for everyone to take their seats. “The first day is still my time to mold your young minds. Welcome back everyone we’ll talk about the syllabus in a few minutes but first I’d like to have a brief discussion about your summer reading.”

Groans reverberated through the room whilst a hand up front shot into the air.

“Yes, April what we’re your thoughts on “Of Mice and Men”?”

“It was heart wrenching. I couldn’t believe how much death and suffering took place throughout the entire plot.”

“It can be pretty dark at times. Anyone else?”

“Yeah why didn’t the normal one kill the retard sooner?”

The group of popular guys chuckled egging on their leader.

“I mean it would have solved everything.”

“Well, Bryson, you don’t think their friendship was worth fighting for?”

“Some friendship, all he did was cause problems.”

“Maybe someone should shoot you in the head… solve all our problems.”

The room went silent, all eyes falling on Kane. Mrs. Briggs cleared her throat.

“Mr. Leeson, please step into the hallway.”

Kane’s sigh was quiet and easily missed under the snickering of Bryson and his friends. Kane packed his things following Mrs. Briggs into the hallway. The whispers floated out into the hall before the door clicked shut.

“Mr. Leeson, While your retort may have been warranted I can’t let you say things like that in class.”

Kane blushed, “I’m sorry Mrs. Briggs.”

“If I was upset I’d be sending you to the front office, but just go speak with the guidance counselor. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

Kane nodded and Mrs. Briggs opened the door, whispers having morphed into full on conversations, and stepped back inside.

Kane shouldered his bag walking through the empty halls noting the accomplishment. Reprimanded within the first few minutes of the first class of the first day of Senior year. Thank god Mrs. Briggs was cool. The principle would have certainly called his dad, but the guidance counselor would just ask him what was going on in his life along with other cryptic questions.

Stepping around the corner just before entering the math wing, Kane knocked on the guidance counselors open door. Mrs. Donoghay waved him in, the desk phone at her ear. She was no doubt on the phone with Mrs. Briggs getting the story about what just happened. Kane dropped his bag closing the office door before dropping into the seat slouching slightly.

“Mhmm… yeah he’s here… no problem… I’ll send him back when we’re done… yep… alright bye. So, Kane, five minutes in huh?”

Kane scoffed, “What can I say? I’m an over achiever.”

“Briggs filled me in. Quite honestly a lot of problems would be solved by removing Mr. Bryson from this educational environment, but unfortunately that would easily ruin his life as a result.”

“What a bummer… can we do it anyways?”

Mrs. Donoghay laughed, “Look, Kane, saying things like that is fine in private or just in your head but maybe don’t say that out loud in public. It doesn’t cast you in the best light.”

Kane nodded glancing at the floor.

“Understood.”

“Great. Go back to class, you might be able to get back before Briggs breaks too far into the syllabus.”

A curt nod and Kane was up throwing his bag back over his shoulder. He stepped out leaving the door open as it had been when he arrived and began walking back towards his English class. He was passing the bathrooms when the girls door swung open nearly smashing his nose into his face.

“Oh god sorry…”

April stood in front of him nearly the same as when he’d left class but he noted the slightly red rims of her eyes. He shrugged letting the door drift closed.

She sniffed and cleared her throat, “We should get back to class.”

April began to turn but Kane grabbed her wrist gently pulling her back.

“You okay?”

Her stiff jaw and quick nod were enough for him to know not to press. Any prodding from him would only make her break right here in the hallway so he dropped her wrist and followed her back to class.

Mrs. Briggs was still on the first page of the syllabus as they both took their seats. When the bell rang, Kane immediately shoved earbuds in and packed up his things. Bryson made a beeline for April following her out into the filling hallway. As Kane passed them out in the hallway he only caught a few words the Bryson practically yelled.

“You really have become a slut. Practically begging me to fuck you at Jay’s this summer and now a quickly with Kane Leeson in the school bathroom? Who’s next April?”

Kane turned down the next hall needing to get as far from Bryson before he lost control of himself.