Bryce hated feeling like the bad guy. He knew that a lot of people used fidget spinners to control ADHD, and the dark-haired Caucasian girl sitting across from him in the study alcove might have genuine neurological issues. If he asked her to put away her 'toy', and she really needed it to keep herself from getting distracted in her studies, it might make her feel unwelcome and uncomfortable in the campus library. It might make her feel like she couldn't study like everyone else. He didn't want to be that kind of jerk. Maybe he should just leave, find another room to do his research in.
But as soon as the idea popped into his head, Bryce discarded it. He needed somewhere quiet, somewhere down near the 14th-century Japanese poets, and somewhere far enough into the stacks that people didn't just wander in and disrupt his already-tenuous grasp on translating medieval kanji. Which was why the girl with the fidget spinner was such a problem in the first place. Bryce needed as few distractions as possible, and part of him was already kind of annoyed to find his secret spot occupied at all. Not that he owned it or anything, but it was so rare to find someone else here that he did kind of feel a little bit proprietary.
Which was unfair to the fidget spinner girl, and another reason why Bryce hesitated before saying anything. She was here first, after all. Maybe he was just being a jerk about having a girl in what he thought of as his space, maybe he had a little bit of neurotypical privilege he was working through. Maybe he was being entitled and selfish. He should probably just ignore her. It wasn't that distracting-
The girl gave the lobe of the spinner another flick. The mirrored surface caught the fluorescent lights again, breaking them up into a shower of rainbows exactly at eye level. Bryce coughed. "Um, excuse me," he said. "But do you think you could do that under the table? It's just that it's a little bit distracting." He could feel his cheeks getting hot, but he forced himself to meet her gaze as she looked up at him with surprisingly soulful brown eyes.
"I'm sorry," she replied, her face betraying just enough guilt that Bryce felt even worse about bringing it up than he already had. "I guess I'm just used to it by now. After a little while, I stop even noticing that I'm doing it." Her finger continued to flick away at the spinning lobes as she spoke, as if to prove her point. Unfortunately, Bryce was anything but oblivious to its constant whirl. The mirrors on the ends fractured and distorted the light as they spun, playing into his eyes every time he tried to look away.
"Once you get used to it," the girl continued, "I promise you that it's very easy to ignore." She smiled brightly, as if she'd just come up with the perfect compromise between her entirely sensible use of a study aid and Bryce's irrational and selfish request. "I tell you what-we've both been down here for what, two hours? Let's take a little break, and I'll show you how to avoid getting distracted by my fidget spinner. Then once we resume, it won't get in the way of your work. How does that sound?"
It sounded like a lot more work than just setting the stupid toy on the chair next to her and playing with it that way, Bryce thought with more than a touch of peevishness in his interior voice. But he knew all too well that he was considerate to a fault when it came to confrontation. Even a woefully inadequate solution seemed better than holding his ground and turning a mildly awkward moment into a genuinely uncomfortable one. "Alright," he said, trying to hide the skepticism in his voice. "And if it doesn't work, you can put it out of view, right?"
The girl smiled enigmatically, her fingers twirling the lobes of the fidget spinner with practiced ease. "I'm sure it won't come to that," she cooed, her deep brown eyes refusing to give away even a hint of compromise. "Now, the trick is to get used to focusing your attention on something else. Once your mind is properly focused, you'll find that the spinner becomes less and less important, less and less distracting. Until you don't even think about it at all. We'll start by having you look directly at the spinning mirrors... that's it, good job... while you concentrate on the sound of my voice."