OXYGEN

16 - Understand

"So," Forrest played around with the radio dials, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty much starving right now." According to the clock, it was 12:27 P.M. - time for lunch. "Are you in the mood for anything in particular?"

"Nope," I answered, "I'm fine with anything."

He settled on a pop song. "Well, in that case, I know this place where they have great burgers. You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

"No . . . I'm not allergic to anything." It was nice that he bothered to ask. "What's the name of the place?"

"XO." I raised a brow, which made the corners of his lips turn upwards. "Before you ask, I'm not kidding. That's really the name of the place."

"XO?" I repeated, slightly incredulous. "What - do you get hugs and kisses with a side of fries?"

Forrest burst out laughing. I couldn't help but smile at the sound. "Well, I guess that depends on who your waiter is," he joked, "But seriously, the food is definitely worth eating. Plus, I know someone who works there and she's great."

"Cool. Well, I'm looking forward to it," I trailed off. A trace of our conversation earlier lingered in my head. "Hey," I blurted out, "Can I, uh, tell you something?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"I just want to say . . . thanks for what you said to me earlier. I know what kind of person I am, and I know it's not easy dealing with me." My voice softened. "But thanks for being patient and for . . . trying to make me feel better about myself."

"Wait," the car zipped by trees and utility poles; I watched from the corner of my eye, "Of course, you're welcome, but . . . June, I didn't say those things for the sake of making you feel better about yourself. I was just being honest." He paused. "I mean, I want you to be more positive about yourself, but I know that's something you have to do on your own. So don't think I'm aiming to, like, boost up your self-esteem here. I just wanted you to know - for whatever it's worth - how I feel about you, appearance-wise." He cleared his throat. "Do you get what I mean?"

I let it sink in and realized that this was another first. Throughout my life, whenever people grasped a whiff of my insecurity, they tried to feed me cheap compliments and advice like it was actually helpful. But your hair is really nice, though and You're not even that big and Stop focusing on your flaws and Maybe try putting more effort into your appearance then. I never wanted to hear these things. What I wanted was for someone to . . . do what Forrest did. He understood that he couldn't understand. He was aware of my feelings, but instead of invalidating them, he accepted it all. He accepted me. You being you is enough. And he meant every word.

I dropped my face into my hands, letting out a small groan. "June?" The concern in his voice was evident. "Hold on, what's wrong?"

My reply came out muffled. "You're too amazing."

"What?" Somehow, I could tell that he was smiling. "Can you say that again? I didn't hear you."

Finally, I looked up with raised brows. "Nice try, but I'm not repeating what I said."

"Ah, it was worth a shot, but anyway," he glanced at me before looking back at the road, "Why'd you say that?" He seemed genuinely curious. Did he really not know?

"Because it's true - obviously." I heaved a sigh. "Do you even realize how different you are? You just . . . You're not like everyone else." I wanted to say more, but I didn't know how. I wasn't good with words like he was. "Everything you say is like . . . it's like it's coming from Inspirational-Quotes-dot-com."

"I see you still think I use a website," he remarked, amused, "But you're saying all of this like it's bad."

"Oh, it's not," I assured him, "I'm just not used to it."

"Well, soon, you will be . . . because this is literally just the first day."

And at that, I silently thanked whoever was controlling fate.