Pretend
Everwood fanfiction by LeeT911 (LeeT911@hotmail.com)
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I see him holding his lunch and talking to Wendell. I see that he wants to get away, but is too considerate to say it flat out. I can't bring myself to hate him. He's too damn nice.
They make it to Colin's table. Ephram sits down. Wendell wanders off, most likely to eat alone. Just like me.
I glance despondently down at my own lunch, finding it just as appetizing as the unidentifiable guck served in this cafeteria. Today I sit far from my usual spot. Far from all of them.
Amy and her so-called friends are busy chatting with Colin and Bright. Next to them, Ephram looks decidedly out of place. He's not filled with that sordid sense of superiority that consumes the rest of them. Nor is he actually contributing to the conversation. For the most part, he simply eats his lunch, the glint of earphones visible from my vantage point. Occasionally, he looks around, as if searching for someone. I know he's looking for me. I know he's afraid of me.
Thankfully, he can't see me. His back is pointedly angled in my direction. Facing him, however, is Colin, and my brother's insistent waves can't be ignored. I leave my lunch on the table. I won't be eating it anyway.
Ephram looks up as I sit across from him. He mumbles a generic greeting; I mouth an equally generic response. He nods, takes out his earphones, still allowing me that one small courtesy. The rest of them take only a moment to note my approach, and within seconds are already lost in their original discussion again.
I ask him how he's doing. He responds, "ok, I guess", somehow knowing that to say "fine" would only insult me further.
He asks the same. "Good." I answer, just to spite him. I keep my tone crisp, non-committal.
He tries a smile. It is so obviously strained it saddens me. Instead, I pick up the conversation, trying to engage him in pointless small talk.
For a few minutes we talk about the weather, about school, but I quickly see that he is uncomfortable. Why is it so hard for him to hide it? I've been doing for a long time. To me, it is second nature. It's so easy to laugh, and smile, say all the right things, pretend nothing ever happened.
He stands suddenly, without a word, and starts to walk away. Expectantly, everyone at the table looks at me, as though I have some power over him. I understand. He hasn't told them yet about our little mishap. He hasn't told her yet.
Just to keep up the charade, I do follow him. Out of the cafeteria, out of the building. I notice how his dark apparel seems misplaced against the stark clean look of the modern high school. I notice how the sunlight shines through his hair, picking up its distinctive hue on the way. I notice how he stands out in the open, his somber mood in glaring contrast to the magnificent day.
I stay a few steps back, leaving him some space. We are not close. We were never close.
Eventually he does look back at me, if only to see why I'm still here. I shrug, stick my hands in my pockets. He looks away again.
"I'm sorry." he says, for the umpteenth time.
"I know."
He turns slowly, raising his eyes to meet mine. Even his sincere regret doesn't matter to me anymore. I'm tired of hearing it. His eyes fall to the floor. There is a long period of silence during which he stands impossibly still.
He straightens, glances in my direction, heads back inside the school. And as he passes me, he whispers her name, the name of the girl I can't ever outshine, the name of my brother's girlfriend.
In that brief moment, he seems so brave, so honest. I can't hate him for it.
In that brief moment, I realize I can't have him.
But you know how people are; you always want what you can't have.
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END
