"So it's been like that for how long?"
"Four days or so." Diane and I are sitting in front of my laptop, the screen of death still mocking me for my failed attempts at fixing it.
She crosses her fingers, resting her chin on top of her hands and looking at my computer like someone would wish their partner looked at them. Diane is majoring in Computer Science, and while this is just her first semester taking major related classes, I know she built her own PC, and was aware that if there was someone who could fix my laptop it would be her, aside form a paid technician that is.
"I'll have to take it apart."
My heart sinks.
"What, no." I grab my laptop, hugging it against my chest, "not my poor baby."
"Well, then get a new one."
"I don't have the money though." As we're talking the door of my room opens, and if I were in any other house I would have screamed because of the possibility of a ghost, but there is a loud meow as soon as it creaks open, and the next second Concha jumps up on the bed.
"Woman, when you dropped your laptop it busted something inside, I'm not even sure what it was, your screen is also fucked from what I can tell, even if I fix the hardware you'd still have to replace some parts of it, and by that time you'd be better off just getting a new laptop." I bite my lip. A part of me felt like that would be the final conclusion, even before I told her about what happened.
"Well, will you come look at cheap laptops with me on Sunday?" I figured out that if I take a bit off my paycheck for the next few weeks I'd be able to afford a decent enough laptop. I won't have money to go out to eat or for coffee every morning, but I'll get over it eventually. At least I hope I do, besides I can take out a new laptop in payments and hopefully that will buffer the pain.
"Sure, as long as it's before six, because I'm meeting someone that day." She smiles, picking up her phone.
I raise my eyebrows, Diane had told me about the girl she had been talking to, but it hadn't been anything serious, until now.
"You're meeting her?"
"A coffee shop," she rolls her eyes, "so cliche but she said she was gonna go do homework there and I kind of just slipped into the idea that I could go study there too...and get dinner afterwards."
"Ooh, " I slap her arm, "smooth bitch."
She pretends to fix the side of her curls, "You already know me."
"Does she go to our school?"
"Yeah, she's into the Biology program , she's a sophomore, and she's cute." She looks through her phone, a smile appearing on her face before she shows me a picture of a girl. Her brown eyes are soft and she has ashy blonde hair cut just under her chin. The picture she took was with a Snapchat selfie, which brings war flashbacks to the fact everyone shared my freakout in the library not so long ago.
YOU ARE READING
Historically Inaccurate ✓Humor
In an attempt to improve her resume, history major Soledad Gutierrez, or Sol to her friends (because that's less depressing), decides to join the History Club at her Community college. However, the club at her school is quite peculiar: they have an...