It was sewing day in my design class. I was so focused on my own little world trying to get all my fabric together that I didn’t even realize there were other people in the class. I get my materials together and walk to the sewing room in the back. 

I get to the back and only one of the two sewing machines is open. The girl that usually sits next to me and doesn’t ever do her work is at the other one. I felt lucky because the sewing machine she left open was the one that I always had better luck with given that my sewing skills needed as much help as they could get. 

I start working away, once again in my own little world. Occasionally, I would chime back into reality to hear my teacher in the other room giving directions or when I heard the girl next to me let out a big sigh. 

I immediately turn over to see she completely messed up her stitching which was a problem I knew all too well as I did the same exact thing last class. I could tell she was ready to give up so I slid my chair next to hers and started cutting and fixing the string. 

She started talking to me. I found out her name was Sarah. Sarah told me how much trouble she’s been having in the class and how much she hates sewing. Once again, I knew her pain. I had the same feelings until I just recently figured out how to use the machines. 

We had a long conversation while I fixed her small mistake. We laughed and I helped teach her the basics. I gave her the fixed fabric back and told her to switch chairs with me because the other sewing machine would undoubtedly be nicer to her. 

We spent the rest of class in there laughing and helping each other out. I was happy to teach Sarah my secrets to the sewing room.