A Better Fate Than Wisdom
Chapter 6: If You Call This Normal
When I wake up the next morning I wish I hadn't. How can I get up, and face people? How can I face her? But I remind myself I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to get an education. Which I'm determined to do no matter how mean people are. Anyhow, the kids at home treat me like shit too, and I get through that okay, I tell myself.
Not to mention, I'm absolutely starving, since I didn't have any supper last night. It's actually not too bad as I shower and then head off to Bartlett Hall; people stare at me and some of them smirk, but nobody says anything. That's what usually happens when I walk by, so I guess everything's back to normal. If you call this normal.
My appetite is dampened a bit by the fact that Aerinah is sitting at the next table, but I just ignore her, and she doesn't seem to have anything else she wants to say to me either. Which is fine by me. The farther away she stays from me, the better.
I slog through my morning class, get some homework done, and head back to the dining hall for lunch. Unfortunately Aerinah's there again, and the only place to sit is at the same table, across from her and about four places farther down. But she still seems to be ignoring me. Which is good, I remind myself.
I'm just about done my burgers and fries when I hear someone talking about me. I can't see who it is, cause there's a pillar in the way, but it sounds like that jerk Darren and his friend Jason. "Yeah, what a freak, I'm telling you," the guy that sounds like Jason is saying. "But seriously, man, where'd you get it? If you can get in people's rooms, I need to know. Cause we need to get into Christina Mendoza's room, you know what I'm saying?"
The other guy laughs. That's definitely Darren: he's got a pretty distinctive laugh, high and wheezy and really annoying. "Dude, I wish," he says. "Nah, I found it. The big retard dropped his bag in the library. Papers everywhere. He missed the poem cause it slid under a bookcase, so after he left I just went over and picked it up. And it was so funny, fucking pathetic, man, I just thought it was like, my civic duty to share it with the rest of the dorm."
I remember that now. I went to the library to get a book, and I dropped my backpack when it was open, and all my stuff flew out. That was early in the morning, before I ran into Aerinah peeking out of the bathroom.
I feel like I just got hit in the face with a bucket of cold water. I made a mistake; it wasn't Aerinah after all. I glance over at her as Darren and Jason laugh. She's looking at them (the pillar's not in her way) but then she looks back at me. She's got the same expression on her face that she had last night, in front of the bulletin board, and I still can't read it. Sympathy? Pity? Confusion?
Then I realize it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that she didn't do it, it doesn't matter if she thought it was funny or pathetic or if she really felt bad for me. I can't be friends with her. It's too dangerous.
I stand up abruptly and step around the pillar. Darren glances at me casually, not surprised, and I wonder if he knew I was there all along. "Not to mention," he continues, as if he's talking to Jason, "I thought if I put it on the bulletin board then Max would be able to find it. I didn't know his room number, after all, so how else could I return it?" The wide-eyed look of innocence he's putting on has Jason laughing so hard his face is purple.
Darren finally turns to face me. "You're welcome, big guy," he says with fake cheer, and reaches up to clap me on the shoulder. Then he heads for the food line, a giggling Jason trailing in his wake.
I turn to leave and Aerinah's there, standing next to me, one hand outstretched, not quite touching my sleeve. "I was going to take your poem down, and give it back to you," she says. "That's why I was there, last night. They put it up on the board, not me."
I realize I'm just staring down at her. I don't know what to say. Part of me wants to apologize but most of me is terrified, remembering how angry I was at her last night. God, she's so small.
She opens her mouth to say something else, but before she can say it, before I can change my mind, I say harshly, "I don't care. Just stay away from me!"
I turn – but not so fast I miss the look of hurt on her face – and walk out of the dining hall as fast as I can.
So all through my next two classes, I can't concentrate. Cause I keep thinking, I've got English later this afternoon. With Aerinah. I don't want to face her again. I don't want to see her looking at me with that hurt in her eyes. Cause I feel bad enough about it already.
But it was the right thing to do, I keep telling myself. Okay, so maybe it wasn't her that put my poem on the bulletin board, but that doesn't prove anything. She doesn't really want to be friends with me, I'm sure; she was just nice to me cause she had to be. Cause if not for me, she would have been wandering around the dorm with no clothes on. And anyway, even if she did want to be friends, that's a bad idea. Cause she's so small and I'm so freaking huge, and I'd probably just end up hurting her somehow.
A voice in the back of my brain points out that Worm's about the same size as Aerinah – a little taller, but a lot skinnier – and I haven't hurt her. But I just tell it to shut up. This is different. I don't know why, exactly, but it just is.
----
So, at first I don't think English is going to be too bad. When Aerinah comes in she throws me one tight, furious glare, then she sits down in the corner across the room and doesn't look at me again.
I just sit there as the prof starts in, and as the class talks about the story. I don't put my hand up for anything, even though I could answer a few times, and Aerinah's not talking today either. Which is unusual for her, but whatever. She'll get over it.
Then, just as I'm finally starting to relax, thinking there's only like twenty minutes left and the class hasn't been that bad after all, Dr. Kuntz tells us to split into pairs and figure out the symbolism and significance of the husband and the doctor in the story. I start looking around, trying to catch someone's eye, but everyone is very deliberately not looking at Huge Neanderthal Freak Boy, and pretty soon everybody has a partner.
Except me.
And except Aerinah.
She's not even looking around; she's ignoring everybody and doodling in her notebook, making angry scratches with a black pen.
"Max," Dr. Kuntz says. "Aerinah – you two can work together."
When neither of us moves, he frowns and says, "Come on now, we've got a lot of work to do."
Aerinah still doesn't budge, so I stand up reluctantly and go sit next to her. There's nobody else within five seats of us, and I feel like I'm in the center of this cold pocket, cause I can feel her anger coming off her like ice.
Neither of us says anything for a while. My stupid mouth keeps wanting to tell her stuff, like that I'm not really mad, or that I know it wasn't her that put my poem up on the bulletin board, but every time it tries I make it stop. It's better this way. Even if it doesn't feel like it.
Finally Aerinah slams her book shut, and I jump about a foot in the air. "Okay," she says, quietly but fiercely. "Explain this to me."
"What?" I say, like the big dummy I am.
"Why you're being such an asshole," she hisses, and suddenly her eyes are flashing. "You still think I had something to do with your poem ending up on the bulletin board?"
I'm just looking at her. I'm thinking I should just say yes, then she'll never talk to me again. But I can't do it.
"Well, I didn't," she says.
I don't believe you, I'm thinking in my head. Just lie, it's safer that way. I open my mouth to say it out loud, but instead I say "I know."
You'd think that'd calm her down, but now she looks madder than ever. "What?? Then why are you being such a jerk? I thought—" She pauses, looking down at the table, then tosses her orange hair over her shoulder and meets my eyes defiantly. "I thought we were friends."
For some reason that makes my stomach flip over.
She's still glaring at me, waiting for me to say something. I can see a few of our classmates watching us surreptitiously as they pretend to look through their readers. I don't really know how to explain, but I guess I'll try. "I did think it was you, at first," I whisper. "Cause you were in my room, so you know, I just assumed--"
"Yeah," she says impatiently, "I figured as much. But then today, you heard Darren say it was him. And it was after that that you yelled at me. I don't get why you were still mad, after you knew it was him and not me."
I don't know how to make her understand. "I wasn't still mad at you."
"Max," she says, exasperated. "You yelled at me. You told me to stay away from you. If you weren't mad and you knew I didn't take your poem, then what was it? You just don't like me?"
"No," I say. "I mean yes. Uh, I mean -" Now I'm getting frustrated.
Aerinah jumps up abruptly and sweeps her books and pens and stuff into her backpack. "You know what, forget it," she says. Her voice is brittle and too high, and she sweeps me with one last furious glance before she turns and walks out of the room.
I can't think what to say, and then she's gone. Well, if I wanted her to hate my guts, I guess I succeeded. But as I watch her storm off it's like with every step she's stomping on my chest, till I can hardly breathe. I feel like I just made the biggest mistake of my life.
And everybody's staring at me like I'm the biggest freak they've ever seen.
