So yea.

The story of a sophomore boy entering a public highschool named Nick who finds his way through social anxiety, relationships, and depression.


1. Chapter I

There are absolutely, no doubt, two kinds of people in this world.

    Introverts and extroverts.

    Now I hate both of those words. They are some kind of weird social classifying system nowadays. You're one or the other, and each one is pretty darn scared of the other one. Introverted people are scared of these talkative, loud extroverts who have no clue in the world how to deal with these quiet people. I'm introverted, I don't like to talk to people. I barely have friends and I guess I have a moderate social anxiety. It's not crazy or anything, but I have a really hard time being around people.

    I think this social fear is what has caused this horrible sweating problem I have. When I'm at home just being myself and chilling, I don't sweat a drop. Then, I'll go to class or go see a movie or something, and I literally (I don't use that word too much) look like I have poured water down my sides. It's horrible. I have to wear two shirts and I can't find one deodorant that works.

    So that's me. In summary, I am a person who doesn't like to get out much. It's funny really, in a way. Funny or not, it's who I am.

    My story begins in 8th grade. I had a decent childhood, I like to think. But that year things kind of changed for me. I'm pretty sure it's when I started “growing up” or whatever people like to call it. Call it whatever you want to, it sucks either way.

    I had barely any real friends. I mean, I had people I kind of hung out with and had sleepovers with, but I didn't really have friends I felt like I could really be myself with. That all changed though, when I joined the local Swim Team.

    I awkwardly kept to myself at swim practice for about two months. It wasn't bad, I just kind of swam and thought about things like how I wish movies ended and analyzing things about my fellow swimmers. That's another thing I do. I analyze the living hell out of everything in existence. Oh that potato, yea, there's fifteen possible ways that potato could affect your life. I mean I even notice things like how my Wal-Mart cashier probably is getting divorced, how that random lady in the park is probably hiding the fact she's terminally ill, or how my best friend's probably not telling the truth. I don't even understand why I do it, and it's not like I'm good at it, but I do it anyway. I guess bad habits stick with you for a while.

    I swam pretty much alone for those months. I didn't talk to anyone really. I kind of hated it, but I was young so I didn't want to disappoint my parents by quitting. I always wanted to impress my parents. Especially my mom. So I swam, I actually got kind of fit doing it, and I guess I just was suspended in this boring, lonely routine.

    Then, after those months, this new kid joined the team. He was from a town about two hours away, he'd just moved here. I kind of liked him when he walked in. He walked with this sort of swagger, but you could tell he wasn't like some jerk. And good God, every girl in the whole town probably had at least some sort of feelings for him.

    I became pretty close to this new kid. He was pretty decent at swimming. I sucked. But I didn't really care. This new kid, Sam was his name, I guess became my best friend overnight.

    So Sam and I started hanging out a lot, and we got really close. Well, I mean as close as I can get. I have a problem getting close to people because my parents would kill me if I told my friends any of our personal stuff. And besides, there's no point in telling people things if they don't really care. I mean people will always say they care, but they really don't. I do. I would

listen to you all day telling me your problems. My heart would break for you probably. But I suck at giving advice so, I mean, it would probably look like I didn't care.

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