Having fun texting someone was one thing, but talking face to face? Now that made Farrah’s nerves feel a little more frazzled than he liked. It was the social anxiety drumming in his veins, making him hold the still freshly copy-warm stack of stapled together English notes to his chest as he trotted down the hallway towards his next class. The weight of them made him feel self-conscious, more so at the little doodles he’d drawn in the margin when he’d taken them, and the now grayscale washi tape he semi-liberally applied anywhere he had space to mark where one subject ended and another started.

It was by no means the kind of notes he’d have written if he’d intended to share them with anyone, but there hadn’t been enough time to rewrite all of it to something more professional looking. Something more in-line with the image of a respectable student. Without intending to, he sighed just as the doorway to his classroom came into view; these notes would have to do, and if nothing else he was confident in the clarity of his handwriting, and the detail of the writing itself.

He rounded the open doorway with just a few minutes to spare, taking a moment to look over his classmates until he spotted the purple hair that his memory told him belonged to James. Oh good- he was already here. That was a relief. Farrah’s lips drew up in a tiny smile as he maneuvered between students still yapping happily amongst themselves. “Good Morning. James, right? Here are the notes I promised.. uhm.. d-don’t mind the decals, I had a lot of leftover scrap booking things that needed using..”

And just like that he felt his cheeks flush, embarrassed before he even knew if he had anything to be embarrassed about. It made him want to fidget, but instead Farrah released the notes, neatly sliding them onto the desk for his classmate to peruse.

It was difficult sometimes to keep every classmate’s name and face straight, so the gentle nod of confirmation did wonders to make Farrah’s lingering nervousness fade. The embarrassment he’d felt if he’d just handed the wrong person his notes would have been near mortifying, truly the kind of incident that would have left him wanting to sink into the ground.

Fortunately he got to keep above ground, head lolled sideways with a smile on his lips that seemed to somewhat mollify the flustered feeling from earlier. “I’m glad.. well, if anything is unclear, just give me a poke!” His eyes closed for a moment, then fluttered back open when the cold plastic of a bottle ever so lightly touched his arm. A peach tea bottle, and all of a sudden he remembered they had been talking about that yesterday.

Slim fingers curled around the bottle, accepting the offering with a little laugh. “Oh, thank you! You really didn’t have to give me anything in return, but I'll accept it anyway~“ He didn’t have to study the bottle to recognize the brand, and either way he liked pretty much every available peach iced tea they sold both at campus and in town. “Yeah- I like this one, I like all of ‘em, truth be told.. Oh except the zero sugar ones, they are a bit.. mmm.. nasty.” This was a good, classic brand of iced tea. Well, either way he wasn’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Is this desk taken, by the way? or can I sit here today?” With his free hand he poked at the seemingly open desk beside James. No backpack was placed by it, and they didn’t have assigned seating.. but James could very well be waiting for a friend to join him, and that was something Farrah didn’t want to intrude on.