Not Today | ✔️

Chapter Three

"I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby..."

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Evelyn would be lying if she said she was paying full attention to the teacher, but in her defense, she read Gulliver's Travels twice already and the teacher was only reading off everything written on the screen. Plus, she was paying half attention, which counted for something... probably.

The other half of her attention was focused on the tip of her pencil, where she was using the eraser to draw on the desk, leaving smudges, but not real marks of ink or graphite. She didn't really do any form of art anymore, but when she felt her attention drift, her fingers always itched to do something, to create something. Currently, the masterpiece she was creating were triangles, as she'd been daydreaming about the pizza they were going to have for dinner the entire period.

Her ankle began tapping against the metal leg of her chair in sets of threes and she tensed her thigh, trying to stop herself and set her pencil down. Just as she looked up from her desk, her eyes flickered to Tristan, who looked half-asleep, or maybe full asleep, with his hoodie covering his hair. He was the only one who got away with that, but she humored her imagination by wondering what she would wear if there was no dress code.

Probably just pajamas, if she was being completely honest. But cute ones. Maybe ones with apples and pencils on them. Or storm clouds, for Mondays. She, like most people, hated Mondays with a burning passion.

Just then, she heard the teacher call Tristan's name and her head snapped up as if it were her own, realizing she was still staring at him, lost in her own thoughts.

"Explain one of the major themes in the book that stood out to you."

Tristan hesitated, slinking downward in his seat slightly. "I guess... the human body?"

"Elaborate," the teacher insisted.

"Well, Gulliver brings up peeing and shi-" he cleared his throat. "Um, bodily functions a lot. Plus, how ugly we all pretty much are. It reminds us all that we're just like everyone else."

The teacher was about to speak when another student blurted out, "That isn't a major theme."

"Raise your hand next time, Lexa," she warned. "But explain your position."

"Well, the major themes of this book are metaphorical and lots of it is about perception, how we perceive others and how they perceive us and what changes with perception, that's completely opposite to us being just like everyone else."

Evelyn tugged gently on the corner of her lip before slowly raising her hand, not entirely enjoying Mrs. Wright's direct eye contact.

"Yes?" she said and a couple students looked towards her.

"I agree with Tristan," she said, her eyes not leaving the teacher even as she saw Tristan turn his head to look at her. "Books are full of figurative language, especially metaphors, but does that mean we should think the more literal themes are any less important? While, yes, there is a great deal on perception and overall the human personality and mind, there is a great deal on the body, as well, because of the historical context."

"How does the historical context relate, in your opinion?"

"During the time Swift wrote the book, Europe was in the Enlightenment era and there was a lot of focus on how our minds and creativity made us superior, so the specific details of bodily functions, like defecation and urination, as well as the focus on how different our features looked up close, he's reminding us that no matter how high our enlightenment takes us, we're all still grounded in the truth of our sameness. We're all still animals, so how can we be as superior as we'd prefer to believe?"

Mrs. Wright gave Evelyn a small, but sure smile. "Well said."

"And a very good, often overlooked theme, Tristan," she said to him, before returning to the lesson.

Evelyn was considering returning to her eraser drawings when she looked over, catching Tristan's eyes. He didn't exactly look happy, but he didn't look like he wanted lasers to come from his eyes and melt her, either, which was refreshing. Still, when she lifted her lips in a smile, he just furrowed his eyebrows and looked away. While her smile probably should've dimmed, she just shook her head. He was just a ray of sunshine to her.

After copying down some halfhearted notes, she twirled a strand of her hair within her fingertips. It was an unfavorable shade of light brown, not quite light enough to be blonde, but not dark enough to call herself a brunette, either. It was a relatively boring point of focus, but more interesting than whatever her teacher was saying.

She swiped everything off her desk when the bell rang, but hated rushing through the door with a bunch of other people, so she waited until it was clear, only to notice Tristan was still there, looking straight at her.

"Hi," she said, expecting him to ignore her like usual, but his eyes narrowed.

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Good thing I didn't offer it."

She was heading towards the door, when she felt his hand on her arm.

"What was that earlier?" he said, sounding frustrated.

"English?" she said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"That's not what I mean," Tristan said, clearly annoyed as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Why did you agree with me?"

Evelyn shrugged. "Because that's what you do when you think someone makes a good point. You agree with them."

"You thought it was a good point?" he asked, his voice more delicate than usual, as if he feared the answer.

She frowned. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't believe it."

"Just..." he sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't do it again."

Evelyn laughed a little, covering her mouth with the soft sleeve of her cardigan. "Don't agree with you?"

"Yes," he said and then frowned. "I mean, no-I mean, yes."

"So then don't make any good points."

"I won't," he said and then paused, looking confused.

"I'm not sure you thought this confrontation through," she said, still amused.

"I'm not sure I did, either."

"If you can agree with me, why can't I agree with you?"

"Just don't."

"So you want me to agree not to agree with you? How would I agree with you if it's about not agreeing with you?"

"What?" he said, seemingly lost.

"Exactly."

He blew out a breath, as if even more annoyed. "Whatever."

Evelyn pulled a face as he walked past her, out of the classroom, muttering to himself. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked at her teacher, who looked down quickly, pretending to be shuffling her papers.

"Mrs. Wright?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"Book characters are so much easier to understand than people are."

"I agree," she said with a small smile and Evelyn chuckled. "But people don't have the privilege of an author perfectly planning each reaction and response. Everyone is navigating each situation as it happens using nothing more than their mind."

Evelyn frowned, mulling over the truth in the words when the bell rang and Mrs. Wright raised an eyebrow. "I believe that's your cue."

"I agree," Evelyn said with a small smirk, basking in the happiness it gave her when she heard the stern teacher laugh as she left the class. There was little in this world more rewarding than getting someone to laugh, it was one of the best feelings. And as her mind drifted, she wondered what it would take to make Tristan laugh.

Probably a miracle.