Burn Before Reading(31)

"No. I'm never going to take it. I don't want anything you have to offer, and I never will."

He stopped, falling off to the side. I pushed past him and walked up the stairs. I was too afraid to look back, too ashamed. The farther away I got from him, the longer the usual school day went, the more and more I realized he'd been right. I didn't talk to anyone. Sure, I overheard people talking about stupid stuff like brand name bags and what drugs they were going to score for Riley's party, but I never listened longer than that. I always tuned them out.

Friday morning, I went running with Burn again. He ran silently and I not-so-silently huffed and puffed as I tried to keep up with him. He waited for me, again, at the halfway point, and we watched the same beautiful sunrise spread over the horizon. It was peaceful, centering. As much as I hated the running part, it was worth it. It was worth it to just sit here and have all your problems be put in perspective.

If Wolf was right about me being stuck up, was it really such a bad thing?

"Is being stuck-up a bad thing?" I asked Burn. He downed some water from his bottle and offered it to me. I hesitated for a split-second, then took it, waterfalling it into my mouth just in case he was the type to hate second-hand saliva.

"It's only bad if it hurts someone," Burn said after a long consideration. "People call me stuck up."

"Why?"

"Because I don't talk to anyone," Burn said. "And that makes people think I don't like them."

"Yeah, they're just assuming things about you," I agreed. "I think you're pretty chill."

"That's assuming, too." He said. "You've spent a total of four hours with me in your life."

"Four hours is better than none!" I insisted. He nodded.

"I guess."

"So what do you do?" I asked. "When people call you stuck up?"

"Ignore them," He kneeled to tie his shoe, and it was weird to see someone so tall and intimidating bent in half. "But before I ignore them, I make sure to listen. If you listen to people, you understand them. And if you understand them, understand where they're coming from, you aren't stuck up, no matter what they say."

His words kept with me, even after we parted ways at the trail's head.

So I decided to try.

That's right, pen-and-paper. I, Beatrix Cruz, decided to swallow my pride and try something new.

I spent all of Friday listening to students in the halls talk, to the smaller conversations, the one-on-ones instead of the huge groups. They talked about their parent's strict expectations, their worries about not being smart enough for college even if they were guaranteed to get in with their parent's money. I noticed more things instead of writing them off; a girl came out of a bathroom stall clutching a pregnancy test, her eyes swollen with crying. Two freshman guys who always sat in a corner of my class whispered that they didn't understand the homework and were too scared of being made fun of to ask the teacher. I watched Jackie, who was in another of my classes, open her purse to get a pen, and spotted the label of a pill bottle inside with a very familiar name; Axoprol, the same stuff Dad takes for his depression. Nobody takes anti-depressants for fun, I knew that much.

Why had I not noticed any of this before? I just wrote everyone around me off as a product of too-much-money, and don't get me wrong - they were still very much rich. But they were also people, and I'd refused to see that. Why? I had no idea. I'd been worried about Dad, I guess. I'd been worried about my grades. I'd been worried about the future. I had a hundred and one reasons, but none of them were excuses.

Wolf had been right.

Wolf had been right and I hated it.

So I did what anyone with a fresh wound in their pride would do; I went to the library and buried myself in books. Not the fantasy books – no matter how much I wanted to. I wanted to give in and lose myself in other worlds for a while, if only to get away from all this crap. Except I couldn’t. Except if I did that, I’d be wasting precious time. So I went to my usual haunt – the psychology textbook section.

But that just irritated me more - how could I read so many of these psychology books and not realize I was judging people harshly in my own brain? How could I help people if I judged them like that? If I ever wanted to become a shrink worth a damn, I needed to seriously step up my self-awareness game.

"There you are!”

I looked up to see Fitz walking towards me, sandy hair wind-blown and his hands in his pockets. A huge grin was on his lips. I shielded my face with a book.

"Can't a girl have an existential crisis in peace?" I groaned.

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now?" He chirped. "Because I thought you and I had a tutoring session. Or did you forget?"

"If I recall," I scowled as he put one finger on my book-shield and lowered it. "Halfway through our talk about tutoring we had a horrendous argument and I stormed off to confront Wolf about something stupid."

"And then you embraced him lovingly," Fitz continued. I gaped.

"What? No! Where did you hear that?"

"The entire varsity swim team - who, if I may remind you, was there when it happened - insists you tried to kiss him. It's all they've been talking about for two days; captain of the swim team, the one and only Stoically Nasty Prince Wolfgang, allows a lady to touch his face for an extended period of time! How scandalous!"