George Harrison ⁰

"It's so cold outside ," you said as you tried to take refuge in that cabin, which was a little warm, but not warm enough.

You moved this past year of high school; now you're in a completely different, bigger city, and at a new school. You didn't know anyone, obviously, and you weren't interested in being popular—you're not that kind of person. Your group organized a trip to celebrate the start of senior year, and you had no choice but to go, since you couldn't participate in the lectures given by your homeroom teacher.

While everyone was sitting on logs around a campfire, the teacher addressed you, giving you a forced opportunity to introduce yourself to the group. It didn't bother you too much, since you weren't trying to pretend to be something you weren't.

You introduced yourself briefly, but with a few deeper, more genuine words about yourself, like how much you love movies, how you sometimes compose music and poetry, or your favorite hobbies. You didn't give much information, just enough to make the teacher leave you alone.

After that, and after a couple of chocolates, you stood up. The cold winter night, the fallen, chilly leaves, the damp air were freezing you, but you decided to find shelter, since those canvas tents wouldn't protect you from the 2°C. You went into a cabin where some other teenagers were making coffee and chatting.

You took out a packet of cookies for yourself, sat in a corner, reading a relatively new book, waiting for things to warm up. The atmosphere was already a bit warmer; you weren't paying attention to your surroundings, until a slender boy stood in front of you.

—Hello, sorry to bother you, do you happen to have another spare book? I assumed, with everything you said out there, that you might be able to lend me one; Oh, excuse my ignorance, I'm George Harrison.—