We’ve all been there. There’s this gorgeous blue-eyed, blonde-haired classmate in high school that is waaaay out of your league, but you’re still very in love with him anyway. He was somehow EVERY teacher’s favorite student (even though you were clearly much, much better at physics and deserved the attention).
You would go on to spend two more years crushing on this chiseled god, expecting some- thing to happen while you did absolutely nothing to initiate it.
When you graduated, it was very hard to let him go. You knew you’d never really forget him. Flash forward a year later—it’s summer and you are thankfully no longer a first-year, so you’re chilling like a villain. You’ve all but forgotten him.
The “it” place to be in your small town is the library, so that’s where you go. You’re feeling yourself and all of these books give you a weird yet unshakable sense of power. Almost TOO much power.
Then you see him. He’s studying with his headphones in, so it’s obviously not a good time to say something. But you’re stupid and don’t pick up on painfully obvious social cues.
You go over to say hello. He takes off his headphones and looks at you, confused. You have literally never said a word to him in your life.
The first thing that comes out of your dumb, stupid mouth isn’t “Nice to see you!” or “How’s college?” Instead you blurt out, “What are you doing here?”
Clearly startled by such an unprompted and unnecessarily accusatory question, he just stares at you. You try and backpedal hard, it’s not working, the questions are getting more and more odd, this is bad, this is REALLY bad, but you literally can’t shut up. Your friends have left you—it’s too hard for them to watch this horrible trainwreck. You give up. The mood has gotten weird and something is off. As he watch- es you go, the room grows cold. You find your friends at the back of the library. You all nod. That was bad.
The moment you go to read the spine of Betty White’s memoir, something changes. It’s subtle, but it feels like a ripple in space time. It’s a very specific m o o d. But if you know, you know.
Weird things start happening after that. You feel it. Your friends feel it. Something’s changed. People start acting weird, the weather is whack, relationships fall apart one after an- other, pop culture is a flaming hot mess, politicians are just winging it.
Everyone you tell about this says everything just seems normal. You and your friends know it really isn’t. Something happened in that library, something truly horrible. Nothing to do with Betty White, though that woman is a real saint.
You and your friends reconvene. You have to find what caused this. Suddenly, it hits you. You’ve all been cursed. By who? You all know—it was him. Your suspicions were correct. All that time, he wasn’t just likable, he was a wizard—some otherworldly being. And you, talkative and dumb, have managed to get yourself cursed.
There’s no discernible way to get out. You and your friends are trapped. The curse follows you everywhere. Somewhere, he is laughing. Never again will he be judged for spending time in a library like a completely normal goddamn person.