This is Who I am Now (On Hold)

Chapter Eleven

This is Who I am Now

Chapter Eleven

                “Sure.” I don’t try to fake any enthusiasm, and my voice just sounds deadpan. In a few hours, this will all be over, and that’s what I’m waiting for. Just a few hours. I can do this. I try to stay behind and follow him towards the pizza place at the other end of the strip mall, but he slows down so he’s walking next to me. I look the other way, still trying to hide my face, but it’s futile being I already let him see it earlier. I’m just hoping he won’t ask questions.

                “So what’d you do today, when you weren’t in school? You clearly weren’t sick.” For someone who just moved from Ireland, he knows the English language pretty well.

                It’s like he can just read my fucking mind, like he knows all the wrong questions to ask. He does everything I don’t want him to, as if his goal is to push all of the wrong buttons. This is going to be a long night.

                “Slept.” I don’t miss a beat, and only tell a half truth. The less lies there are, the easier it is to keep up with them.

                “That’s it?” Todd looks at me, suspicious again. One fiery eyebrow is raised, questioning. I don’t understand why he questions almost everything I do, or why he even cares. It’s like worrying about people is his life purpose, to be there for everyone.

                Sucks for him, because I can handle myself.

                “Yup.” I look him straight in the eye, wearing my best poker face, the mask I don’t know how to take off anymore, and I know he still doesn’t believe me. I wait for him to push me, to squeeze the truth out of me, but he doesn’t. He keeps walking, mimicking my footsteps, so our strides match up, like two small gears in a big machine.

                “I took notes for you in history class.” He looks at me and flashes his overly friendly smile.

                I scoff. “I never take notes, as if I’d ever need them.”

                “Oh,” he pauses and looks down at the ground, blushing. His expression tells me he’s wishing he could kick himself in the gut right about now. “Then I’ll just throw them out or something, I guess.” His voice trails off at the end.

                “But I’ll take them, I mean, being I wasn’t there to hear the lecture.” The words stumble out of my lips before I have a chance to know what I’m saying. Did I just really just say that? Why did I just say that? Now he’s gonna think I actually care about his feelings. Now he’s gonna think he’s opened me up. Nice fucking going, Leah. Great job, stupid.

                “Okay.” He flashes his cocky smile again, obviously proud of himself. We keep walking in a peaceful silence, but again, he interrupts it. Whether it’s because he thinks it’s an awkward silence, or because he’s bubbling over with questions, I’m not sure.

                “Explain something to me.” He doesn’t say it like it’s a question, more like he expects me to, as if I owe it to him.

                “Maybe.” I’m not going to promise him anything. I just want this night to be over with. I check my watch, 8:04. Just four hours to go. I can do this I can do this I can do this.

                “Why are you so quick to judge?” I glance over and his smile is gone, his voice calm. Todd meets my eyes, and his bore into mine, filled with honest, green curiosity. I think it’s remarkable that out eyes are exact copies. The only other person I’ve known to have my eyes is my mother. She said my grandmother had them too, but I never got to meet her, because my father never let us see anyone. My mom said she was the sweetest woman alive. Since I was a child people have asked if I’ve worn contacts. It’s surreal that I’d find someone with the exact same eyes, almost as if we were meant to meet, as if they were meant to mean something to me.

                But it’s too bad it had to be a nosy, condescending asshole.

                I’m brutally honest with my answer. “Because I know people. I know who’s got good intentions and who doesn’t; and lemme tell you, not many people have good intentions. Most are driven by their need to be the very best, their need for approval, or by addictions, no matter who they hurt along the way. That’s the human race in a nut shell.” I look over at his face again, and it’s a blank expression, unreadable. He doesn’t meet my eyes.

                We arrive at the pizza place, and Todd holds the door open for me. As I walk in, I hear him mutter, “Fair enough.”