The Optimist

one

This whole story will be written in Nadia's point of view. I won't change point of views often but you will get a a POV from Jacob! -MTW

Nadia

. . .

I hastily rummage through the left side of my miniature library shelf in a desperate search to find Crossed. I swear I placed it right here last night, promising to read the remaining twenty six chapters today. But ever since I fell into my dreamless slumber last night, it seems to have went M.I.A. Half of my shelf is empty now, but still I ask my mom, dad, and Nathan, my older brother.

And just to my luck, they all say no, stacking on to my building fury. I want to explode and throw all of my books out of my window. I toss every book from the shelf to any part of my room ruthlessly. The other half of the shelf is almost empty, most of the books scattered across my room in the worst unordered fashion.

I'll mentally die if I don't find that book. What happens to Cassia? And Ky?

Questions run through my mind in a race as I reluctantly give up the hopeless search. I groan loudly and bury my head in my hands. Maybe I can escape this world if I press into them hard enough.

And find that book.

I look around at all the books scattered recklessly on my bedroom floor. From fanfics to paranormals and many more, I see that most of the books are ones I haven't been read in quite a while, packed away tightly on the bottom shelves since the summer of last year.

I pick one up, Hidden, a began reading it, automatically engrossed in the first of the indulging trilogy. I unintentionally smile, an almost rare action. This story never fails to keep me coming back and rereading it over and over despite the same ending each time.

I realized soon after, though, that it's finally time to leave for school. I silently prepare myself to be bored for the next seven hours with nothing to read and no one to talk to. The talking part, I didn't mind, but how awkward am I going to look without something in my hands?

Very awkward.

I step over each sprawled book until I reach the shelves, blindly grab a book, and race down the stairs to meet a smiling Nathan, my brother. We're complete opposites. He's just like the Jacob guy, super optimistic. He can smile about anything. But as my brother, I'll always love him and his pesky and smile for no reason self.

. . .

"Why don't you smile? Please tell me."

I want to scream, but I don't. This is the second time this week the one-man company has joined me at my lonely, peer-abandoned lunch table, determined to find the reason behind my stationary frown.

I close my eyes and take a slow breath, trying my hardest not to blow up on the poor student. He only wants to talk, I know, but can I be alone?

"I simply misplaced a book," I say smoothly. He grins like an idiot, saying nothing. He nods with squinted eyes, like he's a therapist and I'm his patient, when he finally comes to a logical diagnosis.

"Why don't you ask the library if they have a copy?" He says.

That! Exactly that!

Nathan knows a solution for everything in the worst situations, though my case is different. I want a book, and not just an ordinary book, but a giveaway prize book that the author autographed and sent to fifteen lucky fans. I happened to be one of them.

I don't respond and he shakes his head. I'm keeping my mute-like status, no matter how hard he'll try to end it.

"I've never seen anyone like you." He says. I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or offensively. "You just don't smile." He added.

He reaches across the table, grabbing my book-free hand, but I snatch it away to roughly, causing him to jump and the book to fly from my arms and right into the puddle of milk on the floor left from a careless high schooler, soaking the paperback cover of Mentality, the random book I unknowingly grabbed. I keep my hand to my chest to protect it, and he's slightly shaken.

Yet, he smiles it off easily.

Mentality happens to be one of my favorite novels and now it's ruined. Thanks to Jacob, who almost automatically pops up to grab napkins after generously peeling the soiled book from the puddle. Less than a minute later, he returns with the janitor and a handful of the school's recycled napkins.

He grabs Mentality and presses the napkins on the cover to soak up the chocolate milk that makes the cover curl over as it dries. I watch quietly, without a smile as he presses the napkins heart compressions style.

After about fifteen minutes-when he believes it's finally "dry"-he sheepishly hands the book back to me. I press my thumb into the damp cover as I retrieve it. He sits down across from, like yesterday, and stares into my eyes.

"Look on the bright side," he beamed. "I saved the pages from drying up and wrinkling up like an old lady!" He laughs, and I nod a few times, silently.

"Okay, bad humor." Jacob laughs. "Sorry."

Next that followed was an awkward silence.

I want desperately for him to leave, to go to another person and tell them that they won't fail Ms. Nessburn's newest math test so I can read the unsoiled half of Mentality.

He smiles crookedly, and I spot his spacers for the first time. They look like straightened paperclips pieced together, aligning his teeth.

I glance down at the book in my hand, then back at Jacob. He's still smiling, like the world is oh, so happy! It makes me less angry, but remembering how he told me I was unhappy revved up the frown on my face again.

"Smile." He says.

"No." I say.

"Why? Why are you so angry at the world?" His curious mood returns and he squints his eyes. I don't respond, opening Mentality to a random page, right in the middle of the book. I don't pretend to read, but his cheesy smile and curious demeanor makes me want to.

His happy vibe is way too strong for me because I'm a generally sappy and uninterested person, who's not strong enough to break the happiness driven in him.

"I plan to stay cantankerous for the rest of my life." I say. "And read, of course." I grin with a small wink.

"I don't know why, but your sad moods discombobulate me."

I almost jump at his sudden change of mood and choice of words. For someone to be the "school optimist", he didn't seem too bright as of now.

I ignore him, though, as he smiles before getting up.

"I want you to be carefree. Smile. Do something fun in life. There's other things to do other than reading." He laughs lightheartedly, but I don't find it funny. He turns around, disappearing into the crowd of high schoolers.

I shrug and look down at the book. What's so "happy" about the world anyway? Why would you smile even on your of worst days? Aren't you supposed to show anger?

Or better yet.. feel it?

I don't contemplate too heavily, continuing to skim random words along the open page. He should-and will-leave me alone, because I want to be alone. Is that too hard to ask?

I'm not the only one of my kind, anti-social and "lonely", according to my peers. They range all throughout the school, but it's hard to spot them most of the time, because they actually smile and associate with the each other, so you won't know they're sad.

That's why I'm an outcast. Easy to spot. I in-habituate all of those habits. I sit and read and ever don't bother anybody, and I enjoy the feeling of being alone.

Thinking about Crossed made a sly smile line my face, but it suddenly vanishes as soon as Jacob crosses my mind.

Can he just go away and like, use his optimist skills on someone else?