MILES.
kendra’s earbuds had begun to fall from her ears, and it certainly wasn’t pleasant to constantly readjust. there wasn’t anything important playing, just shuffled music to avoid the monotony of small talk around campus. it was always full of people who thought that she seemed approachable, thus nearly everyone tried to strike up a conversation with her. at least when she was safe in a lecture hall, people were too focused on getting ready for a 2-hour class than making new friends. pulling out her notebook and taking to doodling small circles around the page, kendra squeezed herself close to her desk every time someone tried to scooch by – the downfall of choosing an aisle seat was that everyone needed to get past you, but at least she would be the first one to leave. it wasn’t that she didn’t want to interact with anyone, it was just that she preferred to be alone rather than have meaningless conversations with anyone new and frustrating. comfort was a funny thing, it enveloped you and wouldn’t let you go, it became a safe haven for kendra, and she tended not to different from her self-imposed solitude. that is, until there was only one chair left in the back of the lecture hall (conveniently seating a backpack) and a voice woke kendra out of a daze, asking her to move her bag before class started. “i guess, but you could always sit up front. unless all you do is play games on your phone,” in which case you shouldn’t even be here, she thought to herself, looking up at the person who requested to sit.