Classmates wave across campus and within the computer lab. Waves convey casual knowledge.
They never ask the real question: How are you?
I live for the presence of others, however fleeting. I haven’t been invited to a party in months. Weekends, I have only Netflix to drown out despondency. Even then, laughter sneaks in. Students march to parties and share secrets I can only imagine. Love, bad grades, foibles.
I try to tell classmates. But they move fast.
Would I accept if they invited me to join?
I imagine flailing, searching for good jokes and dance moves.
I stick to waving.