Chapter 23 - He made being alive seem very easy

1.4K 129 160
                                    

S K Y L A R

I was looking for books on the shelves of the school library when someone called my name. I didn't feel like dealing with Luke's hyperactivity so early in the morning, but when I turned around it wasn't Luke standing there, but Mr. Wyatt instead, wearing a nice shirt, and smiling.

"What are you doing in the library so early?" he asked.

Except for Miss Peterson at the front desk, and Mr. Wyatt, I seemed to be the only one around. I scratched the back of my neck, "I was trying to find some of the secondary reading you recommended for this semester."

He looked at the books I had already managed to find and frowned, "You don't need to read all of that, Skylar. I mean, you can, if you want to, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"Oh."

"The ones you have there are more than enough, trust me. I only made that list because I know most students don't even read the book, but I thought if they could find some time to read an essay on it here and there, they might just understand the gist of it."

"Oh, but I read the book. I'm not trying to –"

"Yes, yes, I'm not saying you're one of those students. Although it would be fine if you were. I know how busy your lives can get," he explained, pointing at the books I was holding next, "Here, let me show you the most relevant pages there. I don't want you wasting time reading it all."

I didn't know what to do. Was this a test? Was he trying to see if I was one of those students who half-assed their ways through high school? Who fake-read their ways through English?

"This is not a test," he said, as if on cue, with a smile edging on laughter.

I handed him the books and he turned around and walked over to one of the tables in the main aisle. I watched him bend over and skim through the first book. He reached for something in his bag, which he had left on a chair, a post-it notes cube. Then he started marking the pages. When he was done with the first, he moved on to the second, then the third, and the fourth. If I really thought about it, I really had been completely out of my mind thinking I would manage to read all those books.

I smiled and said, "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It's my fault, really. I should have added a disclaimer to the list. Remind me to tell the rest of the class this."

"I don't think anyone else even looked at the secondary reading," I said and regretted it almost immediately. What was wrong with me? Why had I just said that?

"Yes, I guess not, but I'll let them know either way," he said, still smiling, and then standing up straight, the books a pile full of post-it notes sticking out, going from his hands to mine, as he said, "There you go."

I managed another smile at him and said thank you again, only to regret it immediately. He had just told me not to worry about it and here I was, worrying. He would think I wasn't paying attention, or that I was stubborn. Was I?

"See you in class?" he said.

I nodded and watched him disappear between the shelves of books, his bag in his hand, the soles of his shoes clean as he walked. He made being alive seem very easy, almost nice. I grabbed the books and walked to the front desk. I wondered what I made being alive look like. Probably nothing good.

The bell was about to ring, so I walked as fast as I could without running. Once I made it to the hallways, I did run. I didn't want to be late. Even though my next class was English with Mr. Wyatt, and he probably would understand if I didn't teleport from the library to his classroom at the sound of the bell.

Growing PainsWhere stories live. Discover now