That's what she told herself when she saw the other girls getting ready to go out for a night on the town. They were giggling, shrieking, slipping into low-cut shirts that shimmer and shoes with tall pointed heels that click-clack down the hallway, a herd of immature fools. She doesn't fit in with them so she sits on her bed, back against the wall, door closed, laptop lighting up the room with its glow as scenes from a movie flick across the screen. She's alone, but she doesn't mind.
Friends take up too much time. It is more important to study, to get high grades and become successful in life. Those who choose to fool around and stay out too late are going to flunk out of school and become those losers at Tim Horton’s who just work there forever, pushing coffees, hairnets askewed as they smile fakely and with some embarrassment when they see you. They're irresponsible idiots. They're never going to make it in life, not in the real world. They treat everything like a playground. Also, they are obnoxious.
She spends her free time at the library between classes, using the computer if one is available. There are essays to be typed and research to be done. Her coffee sits on the desk, which she sips slowly until there's only an inch left and it's too cold to drink. If there's time, she checks her email and opens up msn messenger. She likes to take her time with it, typing quietly in the corner of the study room while a crowd of people gather around one person at the computer screen beside her. They're watching a funny video and making jokes. She doesn't let it distract her.
People from back home still care. It's hard to see them, but that's because they're too far away. Never mind that they are too busy to meet up, even when visiting home. People grow apart but they are still friends. Nobody here is good enough to make friends with. They're all so immature that they don't care about anything but getting drunk, partying, and screwing each other. It would be nice to be as shallow as them, but that's not the case, so being friends with them isn’t a possibility. They're idiots. It doesn't matter anyway since there are other things to do that matter more.
She has trouble saying no when he calls her. Normally she ignores the phone, but she's had a bad day. He won't want to hear about it and she won't tell him, but he'll provide comfort in other ways. He's a friend, sort of. Just not the sort that you can go shopping with or invite to special events. So when her phone rings for the third time that night, she picks it up and answers. She changes out of her white bikini underwear with the elastic band and puts on a red shiny g-string. Into the bathroom she goes to touch up her makeup and brush her teeth. She has plans for the night.
There are people at work to talk to, and talking to people still counts as socializing, so that means everything is okay. University is finally over. Meeting people will probably be harder now, but it's not impossible. All those morons from freshmen year still talk to each other. They all graduated somehow. Actually, they're not so bad now that they've grown up over the years. It's too late to try and talk to them now though. Oops. At least there were two girls who were fun and worth hanging out with; they made the years bearable. They are moving away soon. I'm not sure who I'll talk to now. It will be fine, though. I don't need anybody.
She likes to spend her weekends at the coffee shop, writing in her notebook. One Sunday, she becomes bored and calls an old friend, her best friend she hasn't seen in over a year. She doesn't usually try to call anyone, but for some reason, on this day, she wants to. The phone rings and rings, before going to voicemail. She leaves a message. She walks over to the window. There's a brown and black cat stretched out on the ledge, which she pets until she can hear a purr emitting from the fuzzy body with amber blinking eyes. She talks to the cat and hopes that her neighbours can't hear her through the walls. It's a sign of insanity when you talk to your cats too much, according to popular opinion.
She thinks of whom else there is for her to call, but there's no one.