Page 115 of Sunflower Persona
I nod as I turn and walk into the building. A cold blast of air washes over me as I step through the sliding doors, and a low din of chatter fills the air. Not as loud as it can be during the school day, but still loud enough that my nerves are set on edge. With a steadying breath, I push farther inside, heading down the large staircase and into the depths of the building’s basement.
This floor is older and more dated than the rest of the building. I follow the signs to a meeting room tucked into a narrow hallway. It’s all but empty except for a scrawny guy wearing glasses working on hooking up the projector to his laptop. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as I walk inside and take a chairnear the back wall. More people trickle in, finding seats spread among the rows and creating clearly defined groups.
And then there’s me.
Alone.
I hadn’t planned for preexisting groups. Approaching them is way harder than someone individually. I don’t think I can slide into a group like that. Getting up the nerve to talk to one stranger is hard enough.
My heart hammers in my chest while I watch my not so carefully constructed plan crumble around me. Thenshewalks in. The same girl I saw at Cutter’s the night I met Gage—the beautiful dark-skinned woman whose friend played D&D. The one I was too scared to talk to then.
And she’s alone.
If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.
She scans the room, takes a seat a few down from me in the back, and sprawls out with more confidence than I think I have in my right pinky. Even from the back, it’s like she owns the room, and her being here alone is a feature, not a bug. I try to mirror her posture, uncurling from the tight ball I shoved myself into. Taking up this much space feels unnatural. My limbs are too long and gangly. I’m not sure my poor imitation has the same effect, but I force myself to keep the awkward pose.
I steal glances at her from the corner of my eye, trying to plan my way in. Jumping in with “Hey, I remember you from a bar a few months ago” is a surefire way to make myself seem crazy. My gaze lands on her shirt, and a plan formulates. I recognize the reference as something fromBig Bang Theory. I’ve never watched the show myself, but I’ve been on the internet long enough I get the context and can probably fake enough knowledge to start a conversation.
“Hey, I like your shirt,” I say with a smile. I really hope it looks normal because the grin feels feral on my lips.
She looks down and grimaces. “Thanks.”
“Are you a fan?” I ask, unwilling to let her short answer be the end.
“Not really,” she says, her lips still curled.
“Oh, thank God. I’ve never seen an episode but couldn’t think of a better way to start a conversation,” I ramble.
She visibly relaxes and sinks back into her chair with a smile.
“I was worried you were about to ambush me with that cursed show. The shirt was a gag gift from a friend, and it’s laundry day.”
“No ambush here. I’m Kori, by the way.”
“Shaunee,” she says and shakes my hand. “You new around here? I haven’t seen you at a screening before.”
“Transferred in last semester, but this is my first time coming to one of these. I saw it was a creature feature and knew it was time for me to crawl out of my lair and try to make some connections on campus.”
I leave out everything that happened last semester. That’s not a small-talk story—or one I’d want to share even if we were friends. There’s too much baggage there.
“Well, you came to the right place if you like campy monster movies. If Jeremy had his way, we’d watch them every month, but Hannah makes sure that some other classics get thrown into the mix.” She nods toward the scrawny guy with the laptop and a girl who joined him in his fidgeting.
“Kaiju movies are my favorite, but I’m down for pretty much anything involving monsters and practical effects.”
“I’m a slasher girl, myself. But hard agree on anything involving practical effects. They just don’t make them like they used to. Good CGI is great—I’m not stupid enough to try to deny that, but the amount of bad CGI out there almost makes it not worth it.”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, the pair at the front finishes their setup and turns off the overhead lights. All of the soft chatter in the room falls silent as the title card forNight of the Living Deadappears on the screen. Next to me, Shaunee mutters a quiet “fuck yeah” under her breath. The next ninety-six minutes pass by in a blur. As the credits start to roll, someone flips the lights back on, and we let out a collective groan as our eyes adjust to the bright lights.
No one sticks around for long after that.
“Are you hungry?” Shaunee asks as she stands and stretches. “I’m meeting my friend Jayla for dinner at Bolton. You should join us.”
A huge grin threatens to overtake my features, but I school it. I’ve got to play this cool. I can’t let her know how her offer has made my whole week.
“That sounds great,” I tell her, trying to keep my excitement in check.
She nods and heads toward the door without a word. I scramble out of my seat and fall into step beside her.
