Give Me Love

The regular iChat message alert startled me as I highlighted the pages of my Psych book, pointing out the important terms that were bound to be on the final exam in a few months time. Hoping it was Marley, my partner for the current psychological study, I walked across my dorm room and picked up the laptop.

‘LIAMP93 would like to chat’

I wracked my brain in a silent search for possibilities of who this Liam character could be. It donned on me that I knew absolutely no one named Liam. I accepted the chat request, ready to tell the boy he’d gotten the wrong username from another girl named Brianna.

“Do I know you?”

The boy replied mere seconds later.

“Com on, Bri. Dnt play gmes wit ur best friend.”

Best friend?

“Well, your best friend must not like you much because she gave you the wrong iChat username.”

I returned back to the Psych textbook in my hand, resuming to my treacherous task of highlighting whatever it was that stood out to me. The same message tone sounded again, this time muffled by my tangled bed sheets.

“Might as well make use of dis nd becme frends. I’m Liam nd u r?”

This guys grammar was atrocious for what I assumed was an 18 year old, according to the ’93 in his username – the same year of my own birth.

“Fine,” I typed, suppressing a long sigh. “Help me study and I’ll gladly be your friend. I’m Brianna, as if you couldn’t tell already.”

“Study what?”

Boy was this guy persistent. In all honestly, I hoped he would leave me alone to study in the serene confines of my quiet dorm room in Syracuse, New York.

“Psychology.”

“Ur in uni?”

“Yes, I’m in college.”

“Ouch, tht must suck. Uni, I mean.”

“It does, but I manage. Now, help me study.”

“I hvent studied psychology, but Ill do wat I can to help.”

“Sounds great… now tell me, what do you know about schizophrenia?”