Solitaire

by Alice Oseman

My name is Victoria Spring. I think you should know that I make up a lot of stuff in my head and then get sad about it. I like to sleep and I like to blog. I am going to die someday.

Sometimes I like to fill my days with little things that other people don’t care about. It makes me feel like I’m doing something important, mainly because no one else is doing it.

“Hi!” he says, and smiles some more. A nice smile. A calm smile.

Michael sighs. “Everyone’s attractive, to be honest, even if it’s just something small, like some people have really beautiful hands. I don’t know. I’m a little bit in love with everyone I meet.”

“It’s important to make lots of discoveries every day.” He stands back up. “That’s what makes one day different from the next.”

“Actually, yes. He was only twenty-seven, the poor guy. Twenty-seven. Maybe we’ll die when we’re twenty-seven.”

“I know Nick and I said he’s weird—and he is weird—and I know you think that it’s easier to be by yourself, but every minute you spend thinking about what you’re not doing, that’s another minute forgetting about how to be around other people.”