The Optimist

seven

Nadia

. . .

Jacob ambles over to my table the next day. "Listen, Nadia, you probably think I'm a narcissist or somewhat, but I'm always wanting to help others, like you." He smiles and sits across from me. I don't see how ditching dates for an ex is helping others.

"You read alot, which is good." He says. "Give me a few good books."

It's not as easy as it sounds for someone like me to suggest a 'few good books', because I read evrything and ninety nine percent of the time they're awlays good. Hundreds of book titles run through my mind as he waits.

"I've heard Divergent is just another Hunger Games, but overall it's good." He says. My eyes light up as I gaze at him. "Yeah." I say. "They are. Long books, but they're worth your time."

He nods with a sly grin as I continue reading the same sentence over and over. "You spoke." He says. He beams and taps his thumb against the table, staring at me like his long lost twin brother.

I set my book down on the lunch table and grimace.

"Why does everyone get all excited when I talk?" I ask. "Like," I pause, "like a deaf-mute kid who finally speaks and all of his pronunciations are perfect and clear." I ramble. I don't care if Jacob is listening or not (which, of course, he is), I go on. "Like he was never a muted person at all."

"Somewhat." Jacob says. He purses his lips in confusion as he stares at me. "Because, with a beautiful voice like that, I'd wish you'd talk all the time. Too many amazing voices are wasted on quiet people."

Ouch.

"I thought you were supposed to make me feel better." I mumble, glancing down. Jacob stares at me like a surgeon who just lost his first ever patient through surgery. He gazes down at me reading and book and sighs.

"I don't know what it is about you!" He says loudly. "You just, you," he pauses, "you're not like everyone else I've helped. I tried to help you, but you're just too hard." He hangs his head and walks away. "Too angry." He mumbles, shaking his head. He looks down and laughs at himself pitifully.

He's not an optimist. I knew it the whole time. Something deep down told me that he isn't as happy as he puts on. I shrug to myself and sip at my coke quietly. Jacob can't help me, and I can't help him. I may be his last ever goal, and Xena may be his last ever girlfriend, but I can't help him.

I stare at the low chatting teens across the room. No Jacob.

What have I done?

. . .

Dinner again is nothing more than my angry mom and her angrier son. Dad gets involved this time, but he doesn't do much help on Nathan's part. He yells, "You should agree with your mother. Don't yell back at her."

Nathan then reacts by huffing a breath and excuses himself from the dinner table despite the punishment threats from both Mom and Dad. I hear his new t footsteps run up the stairs. The faint sound of a door slamming can be heard from my spot at the table. Nathan's door.

All I do is watch and listen, no input to be said.

"Honey," Mom says, turning to face me and rubs her hand in circles over her chest. I raise a brow to tell her to go on. "That Perez boy is a bad influence, you know." She says. "He may give the best advice, but I don't think you should be around him or talk to him, okay?" She smiles it off like I'm a little girl.

I nod. "Speak to your mother." Dad commands. "Yes." I say, quietly.

"Louder." He says. He pauses to cough, but that doesn't remove the stone glare he directs toward me.

"Why does it matter? You all put too much stress on him, and I think that's too much!" I argue and exit the table, too. Mom calls after me to come back, but that stops eventually. Finally upstairs, I knock on Nathan's door. I hear a low grumble on the other side before he says, "Who is it?"

I mumble my name and he opens to door, pulling me in. He slams the door, making me jump. Mom and Dad are silent downstairs, but I know they're planning on punishments for leaving the table and arguing with them.

"Sorry." He chuckles lowly before ambling over to his bed. He pats the empty spot next to him and smiles. "Do you ever just think about running away?"

The question hits me so fast and off guard that I stand, unmoving, for a full three seconds. My voices hitches in my throat as I say "No." I hope for the worst. What is he plotting? Are Nathan and I the same? Pessimistic?

I know Nathan can never keep things up, but being happy was to easy to give up on. He's irrational if he thinks he can runaway, no food, drink, or life to chase after.

"I do." He says. He releases a frustrated sigh and buries his head in his palms. "I'm so dumb." He mutters. "I know I'm leaving you and Mom and Dad and Jacob, but-"

"You're not leaving." I say firmly. "You can't leave me with all too happy Jacob and bad-hearted Mom and sugarless Dad. Please, no." I say quietly, rushing all the words into a run-on ramble about how I see life.

Way too happy Jacob.

Bad-hearted Mom.

Sugarless Dad.

Nathan eyes tear up in sadness and anger, knowing he'll be punished. "I can't keep up with it all. Johanna is over protective and clingy, Dad is way to sick to care, and Mom just.." He says. "Just yells at me for nothing. I lost a good friend and counselor to her."

I just keep nodding. "Jacob's my fault." I say, looking down.

"He told me I was his last goal. The last senior that he wants to see smile." I say. "I don't listen to him, you're right Nathan, I just want to read, but I didn't know he'd leave everything behind because of me."

"It's not entirely your fault." He says. He grabs a baseball from his bed side dresser and tosses it up in the air repeatedly. "Xena's been heavy on his mind lately. He wants to be back with he, but he told me this girl just captures his eye. He never stated a name, but when he said reader, I automatically thought of you."

I smile a little at that and fiddle with my nails. They're all broken down and bitten up to shreds, but there's still enamel there. I know Nathan thinks of me when it came to describing readers, but no one else will. I don't frown at that, just take off the smile that threatens to creep on the corner of my lip.

"But, I'm setting my plan in action." He points to a stack of suitcases well hidden unless you stare hard enough through the dark corner in his room. My eyes widen as I hear footsteps trudging the stairs.

"Nathan, no.." I trail off. How can he leave me? How can he leave at all?

"I've been thinking, and this is the best way to go." He says with a nod. A knock. I never knew how sad he is, but it hurt that he considered running away.

"Get out. Don't tell Mom and Dad. I'm leaving tonight." he orders. "Goodbye Nadia. I love you. Don't forget that." He smiles, closing his eyes as he lay back in his bed. His palms rest under his head as he breathes quietly. I just let him be. I shut the door to his room slowly and pass Dad in the hallway.

Partly because I know he'll be back--he can't survive a day without food--and because runaways don't last forever. He needs Jacob now more than ever, but he especially could use Mom's forgiveness. I need to talk to Jacob, but something tells me he won't wanna listen to me because of the way I treated him.

So I won't.