Desiree went through the remainder of classes with an unfamiliar burden weighing on her mind. Try as she might to ignore it, she found herself unable to focus, distracted from her test, and the day dragged out ahead of her seemingly without end. What was worse, she imagined people were whispering about her distress, and on a few occasions she thought she caught people watching her out of the corner of her eye; but when she looked, no one was there.
When her last class of the day finally concluded and she no longer needed to split her attention, she found herself capable only of an odd state of confliction and nowhere to go with it except the dorm room she occupied all on her own. She was slower than usual making her way out of the building when she noticed one of her teachers was still in his office. Timidly, she knocked on his door.
“How can I help you, Miss Williams?”
Desiree cleared her throat and swallowed. “I need to talk to someone… It’s not about class.”
The teacher ordered the files on his desk and sat back in his chair. “I’m not guidance counselor, but for one of my better students I can make an exception. Please, take a seat.” She did, and she sat down primly, legs together and back straight with her bag arranged neatly at her side. “What’s on your mind?”
She took a moment to search for the words. “You see… I met someone yesterday– not romantically, but he was friendly enough, and I thought we got along… but when I saw him again, he was rude and vulgar and insulted my intelligence with increasingly ridiculous suggestions, then became belligerent when I refuted him.”
“How did you react?”
“I became understandably upset,” she quickly assured as if it was obvious. “Anyone would in that situation.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she admitted. “There was a moment I may have… overreacted in the moment, and I was afraid he might retaliate, but he left before doing anything else.”
The teacher nodded and sat back. “What did you hear that bothers you so much?”
“Nothing that bears repeating,” she quietly replied, cheeks flushing ever so slightly in recollection. “What was said doesn’t bother me as much as the fact it was said. I didn’t think he was the kind of person to try such a thing after our first conversation, but not only did he hide his intentions before lying to my face, something about me also made him think I was naïve enough to believe him. I don’t know what to do with that.”
Stolen story; please report.
“I appreciate your honesty,” the teacher reverently remarked.
“Why wouldn’t I be honest?” she sincerely asked.
“Why indeed? Please keep going.”
Desiree looked at her hands folded in her lap. “I find myself second guessing what I know about the people around me. But mainly I’ve been wondering, if nothing was said at all, would things still be… complicated, or would I simply be ignorant about them?”
“The world has always been complicated. One of the difficulties faced by intelligent individuals like yourself is the world doesn’t become complicated until much later. By then, everyone else has acclimated and it seems like things are only difficult for them. It’s one of life’s great ironies, and it will pass, but not on its own. Do you intend to repair this relationship?”
“I wasn’t going to. Should I?”
“It’s not my place to say. Disagreements and misunderstandings are part and parcel to friendship, and friends are essential to mental health, but a toxic person in your life can be just as destructive as a good friend is reliable. Especially when it comes to facing life’s complexities. Think about it some and talk to a trained counselor if you must. Unfortunately, my abilities as one only extend so far.”
Desiree left the building just as conflicted as when she entered, but somewhat relieved now that she put her issues into words and got them off her chest.
Watching from a tree on a nearby walking path, the tall fanboy spoke into his recording app. “She spent an inordinate amount of time in her third period teacher’s office. The blinds were open, so I can confirm he was not taking advantage of her.” He shimmied out of the tree to follow along at a safe distance. “Seems upset. Likely because her lunch was disturbed.”
While the fanboy was reporting into his recorder, he inadvertently kicked a rock. He dove into a bush before Desiree turned toward the noise, but to his surprise, he landed on someone. It took all of their collective effort not to yell in pain or surprise. When Desiree dismissed the sound, the tall fanboy immediately zeroed in on his cushion’s high res camera and low angle of observation on the path.
“You!” the fanboy whispered as accusatorily as he could.
“Don’t even think about it,” the cameraman warned.
“Were you taking pictures of Desiree? That’s a breach of the agreement between the secret clubs!”
The cameraman put his hand over the fanboy’s mouth. “Walk away right now, act like this never happened, I slide you fifty bucks and net you a discount.”
The fanboy licked the hand obstructing his words. “Never! Give me the camera right now! The conclave will hear about this!”
Even though the fanboy had advantage of leverage and angle, having landed on the cameraman, after a few seconds of wrestling, the cameraman got on top since the fanboy was so transfixed on snatching the camera away he forgot to actually wrestle. It’s tough to say which way it would have gone from there, because the bush parted and Desiree demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”