Dark Chocolate Cherry

COLLOQUY

Eighth period I have Advanced Composition II with Mr. Quinton, who manages to fulfill every English teacher stereotype in existence. He is a middle-aged bald man with glasses who wears dress pants, those t-shirt-like button-downs they wore in the eighties, and hiking boots, with a pen protector (with pens) and a tie. The first thing he does to start class is explain his necktie, which is full of thought bubbles. I don't really listen, and neither does Nolan Steinke, who is scribbling in his notebook again. Mr. Quinton doesn't mind his students writing in class—in fact, he seems to enjoy it—and keeps glancing at Nolan happily. Mr. Quinton is a very happy man. It gets on my nerves.

Luckily, we're working on a new essay about Looking for Alaska by John Green, which I've already read, and we have to write it in any format we wish that's somehow related to a theme or idea in the story. There's some super hardcore John Green fans sitting behind me who are all answering Alaska's essay question, but I've decided to just do a pretty simple essay that just discusses the theme of the book. Mr. Quinton, who is quite fond of technology, assigns me a Chromebook to plan on and I start working. Most of the other kids move around the room and discuss in large groups while Mr. Quinton walks around and talks about their essay with them, and Nolan and I are the only ones who want to work alone. So far, he hasn't even done anything yet, he's just looking through the book gloomily.

I pick up my Chromebook and walk over to the seat next to him. Nolan glances up but otherwise doesn't really flinch. "Hello."

"I hope you realize that you're literally looking for Alaska right now," I interject. He closes his copy of the book and props his chin up on one arm.

"I have no idea what to do about this impregnating book. I don't understand a single word of it and I have no idea what it means. It's stupid. How could anyone fall for such a lowlife like Alaska?"

"A lowlife?"

"Yeah, she smokes, cheats on Jake, drinks, didn't save her mom when she was dying..."

"Nolan," I explain. "Alaska isn't a lowlife just because she's on drugs and makes mistakes. Yeah, she's messed up, but that's what makes her who she is. Would Miles ever have loved her if she was a perfect little angel?"

"He's kind of naïve to love her, though," Nolan points out. "She never would have left Jake for him."

"Well, that's what John Green's trying to say, I guess. Maybe love is naïve and stupid and pointless, but it sort of fulfills your life, don't you think? It might have been stupid for Miles to fall for Alaska, but at least he was able to find someone that completed him."

"But he never had a chance with her."

"Who gives a crap if he could be with her or not? It's like you and Emily Newport: you didn't care whether or not you could be with her, you just wanted to be with her. Did you think that was pointless?"

"It was, actually."

"Well, who gives a crap? That's what love is: caring about another person so much that you don't give a crap whether they feel the same or not."

Nolan shakes his head. "I don't know. Love has to be mutual in order for it to have a point."

"No, Nolan, it doesn't. Love may be stupid and pointless and disconcerting, but without it, you wouldn't be here. Love is the cause of everything you see standing before you, and it's why humanity's gotten this far."

"You sound like a hippie."

"Well, at least I don't look like one."

He laughs and looks down at the book. "Weren't her parents hippies?"