The Library Encounter

July 6, 2025

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while since my last entry. Life has gone back to normal. Too normal. No accidental confessions, no chaotic group projects, no unexpected nods from people who usually look past me. Just the usual routine: wake up, survive school, come home, pretend to study, repeat.

And honestly? It’s a little boring.

I know, I know. That should be a good thing. No awkward moments, no public humiliation, no surprise social interactions. But after all the mess of the past few weeks, this dull rhythm feels… strange. Like I’ve been placed back into the background of my own life.

Which is why, when I ran into her today, it felt like a glitch in the system.

Yes. The Ghost. Pia. The girl from my group project who never responded to messages until the last possible second, only to act like she had been there the whole time. If I’m being honest, I barely thought about her after the project ended. She faded back into obscurity, like an extra in a school movie. And yet, there she was, in the last place I expected to find her—the library.

It was almost empty, like it always is after school. I was sitting in my usual spot, a quiet corner near the window, when I saw her. Pia was standing between two bookshelves, flipping through a thick hardcover, eyes moving fast like she was searching for something specific. Not just browsing—hunting.

And then, without looking, she said:

"You’re staring."

I immediately snapped my head down to my book, cheeks burning.

Of course, she noticed. Of course, the Ghost—the girl who spent our entire project not noticing anything—chose this moment to have sharp observational skills.

I considered pretending I didn’t hear her, but then she walked over and dropped into the seat across from me like we were already in the middle of a conversation.

"You’re always in this spot," Pia said, like she had been tracking my library habits. "Do you actually like reading, or do you just like avoiding people?"

I blinked. Who was this person?

Because this was not the same girl who had been a complete non-entity in our group project. This girl—who I barely knew—was sitting at my table, analyzing me like I was a character in one of her books.

"Both," I admitted, because what else could I say?

She smirked, flipping her book closed. It was something thick and complicated—definitely not a school textbook. I caught the title: “The Art of Disappearing.” Which was… fitting.

"So," she said, leaning forward, "you wanna know why I never talked during our project?"

I did, actually. I had assumed Pia just didn’t care. Or that she was one of those people who coasted through school doing the bare minimum. But something in the way she said it made me pause. Like there was a real answer, and it wasn’t what I thought.

"I mean… you kind of just appeared at the last minute and somehow knew everything," I said carefully. "It was weird."

"Yeah. I’m good at that," she muttered, tapping her fingers on the book.

She hesitated, like she was deciding how much only gave me one piece of the puzzle.

"My mom thinks I’m homeschooled."

I stared at her. What?

She must have found my reaction funny because she grinned. "Not in a legal way. She just… doesn’t know I come here."

I had no idea what to say to that.

"But," she continued, shrugging, "I like it here. And I like learning. So I show up, do what I have to, and leave before she asks too many questions. People don’t really notice if you stay quiet enough."

I didn’t know if that was true. I had noticed her, after all. But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I asked, "So why tell me?"

Pia shrugged. "I don’t know. Maybe because you’re kind of invisible too."

I should have been insulted. But I wasn’t. Because, in a way, she was right.

People don’t notice me unless I mess up. Unless I accidentally turn in a diary entry instead of my assignment, or get stuck in a group project with people who don’t care. The rest of the time, I am just there. Silent. Fading into the background.

Maybe that’s why she picked me. Maybe she saw something in me that felt familiar.

We didn’t talk much after that. Pia stayed at my table, reading her book. I stayed at mine, pretending to read mine. It wasn’t weird, though. It was… nice.

And when she got up to leave, she glanced back and said, "See you around, Library Girl."

I don’t think I’ve ever been given a nickname before. It was kind of terrible. But I didn’t hate it.

So, I guess… I have a friend now?

A weird, slightly mysterious friend with a secret she only let me see the edge of.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get the full story.

But I kind of hope I do.

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