Project Smile

Six

I sit down at my desk, smiling a little. Gabriel is actually accepting help, and from me of all people. I set all of my books in front of me. Though I really need to choose one to do a character study and essay over, I can't concentrate.

   That is, I can't until Nathaniel leans over me and whispers in my ear, "What are you smiling about?"

   "Nothing," I say quickly, dropping the smile quickly and putting on my resting poker face.

   "Do you have some kind of creepy obsession with dead people or something?" he asks, looking down at my books. I look down, too. Playlist for the Dead, Love Letters to the Dead, If I Stay, and By the Time You Read This, I'll Be Dead.

   "No," I say quickly, moving my hands over them. "I just find the characters interesting enough to write about." Plus, not all of them have dead main characters. I don't point this out to him, though. I just really hope that he doesn't go around telling people that I have an obsession with the dead.

   Nathaniel picks up Love Letters to the Dead. "Is this book based on you?" he laughs. I shake my head and make a grab for it, but he moves it away. "I think it might be. Just wait until everyone knows that you're in love with a dead boy."

   "Give it back," I mutter, noticing that there are people looking at us now. "Do you want a repeat of gym class? Because I will kick you again if you don't stop."

   "I'd like to see you try while the teacher's in the room," says Nathaniel. "I bet you're too much of a coward to do it." He's right, I am.

   Before anything else can happen, the bell rings and Nathaniel drops my book on my desk and walks away from me. I glare at his back as he goes, looking at my book. He didn't damage it, which is good.

   I immediately pull out a pencil and paper. This will be the one that I do. Though I don't have a freaky obsession with the dead, I can relate to this character the most.

   As I look through the pockets of my binder, trying to find more paper, I catch sight of a paper I never thought I'd see again. I forgot that I even put it in here. I can tell because of the handwriting on the top, the handwriting that isn't mine but still has my name on it. I know that below it, in the same beautiful print, are the twenty-seven words that were so ugly. No matter how sweet the handwriting was, the words left a sour, bitter taste.

   With a small knot in my throat, I slam the binder shut and shove it under my desk. Then I stare at the wall, swallowing and hoping that the threatening tears won't spill.

   But they do anyway, descending down the valleys of my face until they drop onto the desk. I wipe them away quickly.

   I hate their ironic symbolism with a fiery passion.

~ ~ ~

He sits in class, in the very back of the room, holding the clicker in his hand. He's been playing with it for the past few minutes, wondering what Cassidy meant when she gave it to him. Would it hurt her feelings if he didn't use it? Would it hurt her feelings if nothing made him happy?

   He doesn't want to hurt her feelings, but he's afraid that he will.

   Then again, he could always lie. He could press it at random times, and maybe she would never know the difference. But that would also hurt her feelings if she found out.

   He can't bring himself to hurt her. She's been through a lot already, way too much to add to that. Even if it's unintentional. All he wants is to make her happy. He can tell by the way she acts that she's not as fine as she seems. He wants to make her happy, if he can. The only thing is that he doesn't know how.