I need to stop replying to “how do you make friends in your 30s?” threads because all my answers boil down to “you have to want to know people instead of have friends” and I don’t think people wanna hear that
It’s like. People can tell if you don’t really like or connect with them. If you aren’t truly enamored with someone you will have a hard time coming up with activities to do together to deepen the friendship. Because you don’t really like that person that much.
With shaking hands, Daisy-Mae Denton walked into the Clear Creek High School Public Library.
What was usually a quaint, quiet space to read or sketch over her summer break was filled with the hustle and bustle of other students now that their first day had ended. The crisp smell of comfort and old paper swallowed entirely by the pungent scent of bodies, bodies, and more bodies.
Plenty of her fellow classmates had flooded the space, taking up the sage green couches she loved to curl up on as friend groups caught up, sitting on the floor between the endless rows of shelving while she tried to weave through to the non-fiction section, picking things up from their assigned spots and setting them down elsewhere just as she turned the corner down another row of books.
The history assignment she clutched should have been the main source of her anxiety, because a multi-page essay handed out on the first day was never a good sign, but in reality, that was the one thing keeping her together as she passed the others her age, keeping her eyes trained on her brown penny loafers for as long as it took to reach the 970s.
If 900 is History and Geography… And 970 is North American History… That makes United States History-
“Maisie! Duck!”
Just as her fingers reached out to trace the 973 call number at the spine of the first US history book, she processed the words and crouched as quickly as she could. A football spiraled right through the area where her head used to be in a perfect arc from one side of the long, four-tiered shelf to the other. Her heart began to painfully pound as the junior who threw it rushed past her, clad in his blue and silver varsity jacket.
Rory Jenkins. They’d been in the same classes together since elementary school.
Shoulders brushing in the narrow space when Daisy straightened herself upright once more, Rory hurried over to his receiver, who was laughing, “Nice one!”
Cheeks heating, Daisy gripped the paper in her hands tighter, hardly able to register what he’d said with all of the blood rushing to her ears.
He’s laughing at you.
The 973s filled her vision, allowing her to confirm her memory of the Dewey Decimal System as the first title about US history popped up. A book about World War Two; Way too late in the timeline. Mrs. Gruben had barely gotten through her introduction to the course and its extensive quarterly essay project before touching briefly on the settling of the first colony at Jamestown right as the bell rang.
Eyes flicking down the line until she found a title related to colonial times, Rory’s laughter filled her ears again. Her awkward duck couldn’t have been that funny. Neither was his mash-up of her first name.
When she turned to correct him, he and his friend were already at the opposite end of the long shelving, backs turned to her as their shoulders shook. One of the librarians at the help desk held a finger to her lips, shushing them as they walked by.
Though she wasn’t able to shake her feelings of unease, grabbing the first book that looked helpful did get Daisy back on track. She was here to get a jumpstart on her work after all.
Please use three primary sources, five secondary sources, and this YouTube documentary to construct your thesis, the student read from the sheet in her hand. Having the freedom to choose what documents and books to use was reassuring, she had no problem scouring the shelves for whatever she needed, and the original Jamestown site was only about an hour's drive away from her hometown of Chester, Virginia. Gathering the necessary sources would be no problem.
It was the printed-out YouTube link that scared her the most.
Neatly placing the assignment instructions on the book's cover and tucking it between her arm and hip, Daisy kept browsing, picking out any title that caught her eye. Checking out books on a desired topic was a snap, especially with such a nice, full library on Clear Creek’s campus; Her almost perfect memory of the building’s layout from a lifetime of visits with her Nana made it even easier.
Holding all the information she could between the lines of the texts as she stacked them up was reassuring. Everything she should need was filled into the bent, yellowing pages, perfectly spelled out for her and her needs. Far better than some silly online documentary she’d have to keep pausing and rewinding over and over again as she wrote down the facts she’d need in her notebook.
By the time she’d found an empty table and set her impressive stack down, most of the other students had trickled out. Silently, she thanked God she didn’t have to ask someone if she could take the seat next to them, that was always so embarrassing. Her watch read 3:30. Had she really been lost among the shelves for half an hour? Nana would be proud.
Besides, she wouldn’t be expected to be home until her Grandad returned from his art studio around 5… If she were there any sooner her older brother, Jay-Jay, would certainly pester her to help him whip up whatever recipe suited his wild whims. Cooking was his thing, certainly not hers, though she was always happy to partake in his impressive dishes.
So, for the time being, she grabbed her spiraled history notebook from the beige messenger bag leaning on the leg of the plastic chair she sat in, and opened the cover to the first book, Jamestown: A Legacy, and dove back in time.
At least, she tried to, but the keyboard of the computer in front of her was annoyingly large. When she allowed the book to fall completely open, the cover hit one of the keys and the bright blue screen flicked on, reflecting off the lens of her bronze-lined glasses.
Daisy wasn’t a technophobe, as her best friend Makana Aukai liked to call her, but she wasn’t all that fond of the way the computers had overtaken her beloved library over the years. Less space for her note-taking, and more space for a blindingly bright monitor in her face while she was trying to learn. The greatest civilizations in history had gotten along just fine without the internet, all the way from Mesopotamia to Ancient Egypt to the modern United States, so why couldn’t she?
Besides, it seemed like the models changed every year. No one had the time to keep learning how to use these new devices for information when the encyclopedia and reference books worked perfectly fine. Or they did when given the proper space to use them.
Her eyes flicked back to the assignment sheet. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the documentary early now that the computer was awake. It’s not like she had a computer of her own to watch it on at home.
Slowly taking her index fingers to the keys, she typed out her student ID into the first box labeled username. White polish on her nails stood out starkly against the black of the keys.
Password was the stumper. Having set this account up two years ago at the beginning of her freshman year, she had no clue what she’d chosen to protect her account.
She typed out password, as that seemed the most logical choice. It’d be impossible to forget the word if it was right there on the screen. The box wiggled after she pressed the enter key.
A small pop-up filled her vision asking What street did you live on growing up?
Letter by letter she squeezed out Hilltop Avenue.
An image of the large white colonial her grandparents owned filled her vision, picturing the expansive green lawn and gorgeous forest surrounding it. The street Jay-Jay taught her to ride a bike on, the large open spaces they’d build leaf piles in when fall came.
Once that answer was accepted, another question appeared. What was the name of your first pet?
That was an easy one, Poppy.
Daisy’s aging calico was her first and only pet, given to her by her grandparents on her tenth birthday. Originally, Poppy had been a way for Daisy to learn about the responsibility of learning to care for another living being, but the other members of her family were just as obsessed with the cat as she was. Poppy’s toys littered their carpet, her food taking up a whole shelf in the fridge, and her fur clung to their clothing as tightly as their little cuddle bug did when everyone gathered in the study in the evenings to read together.
Also accepted, she was then prompted to change her password, once and for all picking password before she was brought to the desktop - An image of the front of her high school during the wintertime, snow blanketing the gorgeous brick buildings. Now, she had to get to YouTube, which she believed was easier said than done.
None of the icons on the left side of the screen looked like the company logo on the videos she’d seen Makana pull up. Awesome.
Internet Explorer looked promising, so she maneuvered the mouse in that direction and clicked on the blue and yellow icon, waiting to see what would happen. A small outline appeared around the picture, but beyond that, nothing, so she clicked it again. Once more, nothing.
So stupid, she thought to herself clicking on it over and over until something changed. Piece of junk!
A few moments later a larger box appeared in the middle of the screen, the pointer of the mouse icon turning into a spinning wheel for a few seconds before the Google search bar appeared on a white background. Now, this Daisy knew how to do. Whatever she put in the smaller bar under the logo would pull up just what she was looking for.
YouTube, her fingers managed, enter.
This time, an unfamiliar image pulled up in the box, and this was usually where Makana shone, picking out something to show her friend to try and “cure” her “internet aversion.” So far nothing she’d picked had made Daisy want to explore the platform any further, but now that she knew it housed history documentaries too, that might pique her interest far more than the poor excuse for sketch comedy Kana always pulled up.
The search bar was a little tougher to find this time, at the top of the tab instead of in the middle, and Daisy pulled the essay instruction sheet out and began to slowly copy the link Mrs. Gruben had added in. One by one, she read the letter out on the paper and meticulously searched for it on the keyboard. Why the letters weren’t in alphabetical order was beyond her, and it probably took her five minutes to struggle out every single letter, but eventually, she was confident enough to hit enter one more time and wait for the video to pull itself up.
Nightmare In Jamestown sounded awfully intriguing, especially given the sordid actions of the settlers against the Indigenous people who had called the land home long before their boats arrived, but that title didn’t show up on her screen.
Check Yes, Juliet - Kendall K popped up instead, causing her eyes to flicker up to the bar where she’d painstakingly typed out the long link. Apparently, she’d gotten something wrong and it had taken her to the wrong video.
Just as she was about to click away and try again, the small black box changed. In its place, a blond boy who looked about her age filled the screen. Beanie and flannel-clad, he sat on his bed, presumably in his bedroom with a brown guitar laid across his lap. Carefully, he adjusted the black and silver lightning bolt strap across his shoulders and cleared his throat.
“Hey, this is Kendall…” He appeared uncomfortable speaking to the camera, eyes flickering upward from the strings like he was looking right at Daisy.
Her chest tightened.
A few more seconds passed and Kendall cleared his throat, taking the pick clasped between his fingers to the strings and strumming out a quick chord. When he smiled, sheepish, two dimples cut into his cheeks. “My friends dared me to try this out - Here goes nothing.”
The video was loud, probably far louder than it should have been playing in a library, but she had no idea how to turn it down. However, the moment he began to sing the words, fingers flying across the fretboard like it was nothing, she wanted to make it even louder.
Kendall’s voice was beyond captivating, siren-like, she’d argue, and she found herself enthralled before he even hit the chorus. It was clear, yet sultry… Smooth, with a gruff edge. Daisy had never heard anything like it.
He kept looking in different directions as he sang, changing it up when he needed to take in more air or switch his strumming pace, but near the end, he looked back at the camera again and she swore he could see her on the other side of the screen, piercing swirls of green and flecks of yellow coming through even with the poor video quality. It didn’t help that he was singing what sounded like a love song…
Cute… She caught herself thinking, propping her chin in her hand as she leaned into the screen, as if it would give her a better view of him. The wall behind him boasted a handful of posters for people she’d never seen before and a bunch of pictures that were too small to make out. A few medals were tacked up by his headboard, and what looked like a hockey stick was propped up by the wooden frame.
Daisy couldn’t look away, attempting to decipher every pixel of the video she could to learn more about this boy with the beautiful voice. Which was, as she came to realize once he sang out a final, “Forever we’ll be, you and me…” completely irrational. Kendall had made this video to show off his musical prowess, not to be studied by some stranger.
Despite this, she quickly gripped the mouse and shook it over the video until the bar at the bottom appeared and she hit the two bars sitting next to each other. Slowly, she followed along the red line indicating the watch time and grabbed the circle at the end, pulling it back to the beginning and starting the video again. Makana did that at all the funny parts of her favorite videos to see them play over and over.
“Hey, this is Kendall…”
Watching the video again felt like the first time, though this time, she closed her eyes and focused on the lyrics, trying to remember all the parts of his face. And maybe, she imagined he was singing to her for a few seconds, before feeling her cheeks heat and shaking the thought out of her head. He certainly didn’t deserve to be ogled over as much as he deserved to be picked apart based on his bedroom.
But, the sweep of his blond hair into his eyes when he looked down at the strings had her head spinning. She couldn’t help her mind from wandering just slightly.
Besides, seeing him on the screen allowed her to skip the fear of meeting someone new and potentially embarrassing or humiliating herself like she normally did. Getting thrust into social situations against her will was at the top of the list of things Daisy hated, but at least this way, she could watch the video and admire Kendall’s talent judgment-free. It was halfway social, especially if she kept pretending the song was meant for her.
Though… I bet he’s sweet when the camera’s off too…
Daisy pulled at the neck of her brown sweater. The library was never this warm. Had someone turned the thermostat by the bathroom earlier as a prank?
When the song ended, she rewound it. Then again. The stack of history books towering beside her all but forgotten.
“Ms. Denton?” Someone behind her asked, and the girl practically jumped out of her skin. She didn’t even pause the video as she turned in the chair, looking at the older woman behind her. Ms. Peabody, one of Nana's friends, who was also the head of the library, stood over her. “Would you mind putting some headphones in if you’re going to watch something?”
The heat creeping up her face from embarrassment quickly turned into the fires of shame. “O-oh. Of course. Sorry… Sorry.”
Scrambling, her hands were trembling at the unexpected interaction before they stabilized themselves on the plastic mouse. Daisy paused the video as quickly as she could.
Headphones. Why didn’t you think of that? Ms. Peabody’s going to complain to Nana next time they see each other.
“Thank you, dear,” The older woman smiled, flipping one side of her cardigan over the other before she turned to walk away. A second later, she turned back. “Is that a friend of yours?”
Eyes widening, Daisy turned from Ms. Peabody’s intense gaze, only to find her line of sight locking with Kendall’s on the screen. Now she was back to flushing with embarrassment, dropping her view to her shaking hands. “No. I just… found this. I’ll turn it off. Sorry.”
“No? What a shame. He’s very handsome.”
Daisy was about to combust in her seat, heart leaping up and down her throat like the drop dower at the Chesterfield County Fair. Brain freezing, she was unable to come up with anything to say before Ms. Peabody smiled, crow's feet by her eyes crinkling before she headed back over in the direction of the help desk.
He was handsome. So handsome Daisy couldn’t breathe. What did that say about her?
This poor stranger, she chastised herself, about to click off the video, gather her books, and head home, before she noticed a section at the bottom of the video labeled Add a comment.
It didn’t appear as though anyone else had, which was shocking to her, considering his undisputable talent. No one had anything to say about the ease at which he played the guitar or his unique tone of voice? Not even one comment about his choice of song or how cute he looked in that beanie?
No… That last one wasn’t as relevant, but the thought swirled in Daisy’s mind regardless.
What a shame, I suppose I should change that.Lacing her fingers together, Daisy turned her palms outward, cracking them with eight satisfying pops. Swallowing thickly, she placed her index fingers on the keys and slowly began to piece her thoughts together.
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eee hi! welcome to the first chapter of online songs - i hope you enjoy! <3 be sure to check out my other works in the btr fandom too :) lmk what you think!!
The current paradox: AI is mostly just useful for what could basically be called “pure science” research (be that data analysis to automated theorem proving), whereas it is not very useful in automating other parts of the economy. On the other hand, we are now living in an era where funding for basic science research in the US is under threat while the American economy is also increasingly made up in large part by AI-related ventures.
