Chapter Text
You are Dave Strider and hell only knows what a drag this really is. Bro always did want you to go and make something of yourself, so here you were, making something of yourself while trying to find a very elusive bookstore. How was this supposed to help you? Perhaps navigating a university was supposed to give you an incredible sense of direction. Who knew. All that was obvious was that this was so not cool and dammit, where the hell was that bookshop anyway?
You take another look at your crudely drawn map, which is really a piece of paper with lines that you assume is supposed to be walls and hallways...or maybe it's a parking lot? Somewhere in there, there's an arrow pointing you in the right direction, but after circling what seems to be the entire campus, you're pretty sure an arrow would do you no good at this point. This might be a good time to start asking for directions, but everyone here just seems to know their way around so well that you'll probably just look like an idiot if you ask. That is, if you don't already look like one now. Well, time to suck it up. You're tired of this stupid map and this stupid hallway.
You tap a small man sitting in a chair on the edge of the hallway on the shoulder and he spins around, literally, looking as if he was expecting someone different but found you instead. He smiles at you and you realize he's actually in a wheel chair.
"Uhh... hey there, what can I help you with?" He asks, looking up at you. Did you really look that lost? Obviously if this guy could tell.
"I'm just looking for the bookstore. The map I got is useless," You answer, trying not to feel like an idiot.
"If you got the map from the front office, then yea, it's probably...uhh...useless," He agrees, thinking. "Well, the bookstore is next to the library which isn't in this building. Uhh... I can take you there if you want. I was about to head over there myself."
"That'd be appreciated," You nod, letting him lead the way out of the side doors and down the service ramp. You decide to do the polite thing and use the ramp as well instead of the stairs. Just because you're cool doesn't mean manners don't apply.
"Anyway, I'm Tavros. Most people just call me Tav. And...you are?" He asks, probably trying to break the ice.
"Dave Strider," You introduce yourself, though you doubt in a school this big that you'll be seeing Tavros again.
"Dave Strider...I swear I've heard that name before..." Tavros comments, mostly to himself, but you still hear him.You didn't think you were very famous, but then again, Bro was well known for his work in the D.J.-ing arts. Tavros continues his pondering and you let him as you don't much feel like talking to people. You're still kind of pissed that this school is a labyrinth hellbent on making sure that you can find nothing.
A parking lot and a hallway later you find yourselves in front of the bookstore. You hold open the door for Tavros and he wheels himself in with a small 'thanks'.
"I'm going to go find the manager. If you have a list, the guy at the counter should be able to help you. If he hasn't fallen asleep yet. It's pretty slow today," Tavros advises. You give a curt nod as he rolls onward in a different direction.
You do as he says and go to the front counter, expecting to see a very, very bored employee but instead you find a mass of black hair on the counter. Actually, it was someone sleeping on the counter with his heads in his arms. You raise an eyebrow in surprise as you were sure that Tavros was just kidding when he said the guy would be sleeping, but apparently not as this guy was even snoring lightly.
"Hey. Get up."
Ineffective. What kind of a manager let the guy working the counter sleep, anyway? This university was getting more undesirable by the minute. You noticed a coffee cup next to a coffee cup full of pens and you grab one on a whim. You lean over the counter, using the blunt end of the pen to lightly poke the sleeping worker in the head. Repeatedly. You have to admit to yourself that the worker looked pretty comical as his head lulled back and forth, his shaggy hair draping itself differently. "Hey, man. Get up."
The employee groaned waving a hand in an attempt to thwart off his attacker. "Come on, Gam...Casey was up all night last night..." He groaned, his speech slurred with the help of exhaustion.
"Dude, up." Okay, not the nicest thing you've ever said to wake someone up, but it did the trick.
"Oh! S-sorry. How can I help you?" The shorter man stuttered, sitting up quickly and straightening his shirt and tousling his hair, though there was really no hope for it as it was probably unmanageable. This guy looked pretty nerdy to be working in a bookstore. It was so fitting, really, that you kind of felt sorry for this guy. He was shorter than you by quite a bit (but then again, you were pretty tall), he had something of an overbite but it was probably made better by the help of braces, and the most noticeable thing about him was his large square glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose in front of impossibly blue eyes.
"Yea, I've got a list here..." You start to fumble with a folded piece of paper before handing it him. "Listen, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be out of here already," You say. That's not exactly true, you just want to get the hell out of here as soon as you possibly can. You've wasted quite enough time.
"Sure thing. Not a problem." The nerd-thing behind the counter said, reading down your list of things you need. He seemed to come to the conclusion that he could indeed help you. "Yea, we actually have quite a few of these books left. Looks like we can get you settled today."
"Great," You give a small upturn of your right cheek in some sort of half-assed, Dave-Strider-famous smile.
"Wait a second...I know you," The employee says peering at you over the rim of his glasses. "Dave? Oh, gosh, Dave Strider?"
"...Egbert? John Egbert?"
"Yea. Man, it's been a while." John said nervously, scratching the back of his nappy hair.
"Yea, like what, three years now?"
"Almost four," He corrects. You know exactly why he's so nervous. The last time you saw him, you'd thought you'd never see him again. It was like one of those music videos you saw on youtube and commented on about how lame the song actually was, but it was just all too real to be a music video.
"So...how you been lately?" It was almost a nervous question and coming from you, that was really a feat as you were the Dave Strider and Striders did not get nervous. Ever.
"Good...You going to school here now?"
"Yea, decided it was time I gave this a shot."
"Cool...cool..."
"Yea..."
"So how about I get those books for you?"
"Sure. Sounds good."
What a horribly awkward conversation. One of those things that just never actually happens to you, but a lot of those things that never happen seemed to be happening today. John scurried off to get your books and you leaned heavily on the counter, sighing. This was just too weird. Four years and not a day went by that that nerd didn't cross your mind at some point. Despite the thick, choking layer of instant awkward that hung in the air, you were happy about seeing him again.
Yes, that's it. You were happy. A smile pressed itself upon your lips at this thought. It'd been a while since you'd even considered the emotion to be a part of your daily emotional cycle. Of course, there was then the object of how John felt and whether or not he'd hate you for life and you wouldn't really blame him if he did. You shifted your weight to your other foot, sighing yet again, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket. If someone was texting you, that meant you'd definitively spent enough time up here already.