Raja Nazari-Richards

Sept. 7, 2020, 4:36 p.m.

Not too occupied.

His last year. Raja couldn’t help but be a little nostalgic. He’d never felt like he fit in especially well - he hadn’t really made a lot of friends, and his year abroad hadn’t won him any favors here, with a year of experiences missed - but there was something so odd about knowing he was about to be ejected into the Real World™. It was time for college applications and all that rot, so a lot of the excitement was sure to be muted, but he was being optimistic.

He wasn’t Head Boy or Prefect or anything important in this place, but Raja decided he wanted to be accessible as his time wound down. So he positioned himself in the Common Room, the coffee table in front of him covered in college pamphlets, scribbled notes, some homework, and a letter from his girlfriend that got swept up in his stacks.

When he noticed somebody walking by, he recognized that sort of where should I go look in their eye and, assuming they were hunting for a spot on the couch, he called out to them. “Hey,” he said, frantically pulling his papers to occupy a more fair share of the table and scooting himself a little closer to the side of the couch, “You can sit here if you want.”

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Not too occupied. - Raja Nazari-Richards || September 07