The Optimist

nineteen

Nadia

. . .

The book in my hand, Carpe Diem, occupies me as I sit alone at the lunch table. Again. I don't smile, just read. Few people recognize me from prom as "Jacob's ditched date.", but I'm not bullied for it. I decided that my new life will now consists of three things:

No Jacob. No smiling. No talking, just read.

That was the way it used to be. Pretty satisfied with my new lifestyle, I get up, tossing the tray in the trash when the bell rings. My silent stature bothers no one as I turn to exit the cafeteria. Behind me, there's hushed chatter and I'm curious to know what it's about. I stack the red tray above the rest of them lined against the wall.

As soon as I exit to leave, none other than Mr. Jacob Perez passes me up. He shoves his shoulder into mine, nudging it lightly as he does. He doesn't look back to acknowledge me as he catches up with Chresanto. I stare at him and watch as latched arm in arm, Nathan walks alongside them. He turns to frown sympathetically at me before mouthing "I'll get him back."

I nod, no smile appearing on my face depsite the happy vengeance wish Nathan vowed on Jacob. They exit the cafeteria followed by a group of seniors, half friends half entourage. Nathan's head vanishes in the crowd of students and by now I can tell that they're no longwr worried about me.

Long gone to class.

. . .

"You saw me there all alone at my table today!" I whine to Nathan at our fixed dinner. Mom and Dad were gone, so we've made our own dinner to munch on. It happens occasionally and Mom says "You're seniors. Get prepared to do things like this." as the excuse every time.

"I thought you always sat alone." Natha mumbles curiously. I grab the stack of plates and arrange them on the table, sighing.

"Yeah, but Jacob usually sat with me." I tell him. Each plate makes a clanking sound as they hit the dark wooden glazed table. The small decorative chandelier above beams, unlike me, as I sit in my regular chair.

"Well, maybe he wanted to catch up with his friends." He shrugs. The jeans he's wearing--my jeans--hug his bums. I want to laugh, even smile at it, but I resist the urge, fighting it off. I can't.

"But.." I groan, folding my arms on the table before resting my head in them, "I thought I was his friend."

Guilt, betrayal and utter sadness wash over me as I realize I may have been wrong about Jacob. Maybe he was just trying to help, but Dad and my frown and my crappy heel walked scared him away. He was only a friend, nothing more, nothing less. My shoulders wilt disappointedly at the thought.

I was too quick to trust him. Too quick to believe. I shouldv'e known that no one, especially Jacob, would want to date me. I'm ugly. Glasses and untamable hair and no social life. I'm only book smart, and those people aren't that attractive.

The sound of boiling chili fills the room, and the aroma flows around soon after. Nathan loves chili with his life! He makes the best in my opinion. Nathan takes a whiff of the meaty soup, mixes it, then closes the lid, prevening the steam from rising.

He plops down in the chair and sighs, wiping away fake sweat with the back of his hands. He smiles, running a hand through his short curls. "Honesly, Nadia, I think Jacob sees something in you." I prop my had on my upper arms, the wooden table to hard for my chin.

"What do you mean?" I burrow my eyebrows together, unknowingly engaged in Nathan's theory. He shugs, smiking.

"I mean, you're all he talks about. I don't think he knows how to control his feelings about you, either. Does he ever smile or blush or anything around you?" He props his chin on his palm raised by his elbow.

"It's practically all he does." I shrug, gazing at the table. Nathan is the only exception to my new no talking vow. And Mom and Dad.

"See?" He grins, tapping his naturally long, red-coated fingernails against the table with his other hand. The room is now humid and steamy with the cooking chili. "He likes you!"

"Just because he smiles at me doesn't mean he likes me. I've come to conclusion that he's only trying to help me improve my grades." I grimace. "Thanks for spilling the beans." I say sarcastically, waving my hands in a jazzy motion.

"Sorry, Nadia!" He squeals, smiling wide. "I'm not going to let you fail." He defends himself.

"There's people in the world who specialize in that job. They're named tutors." My sarcasm doesn't bother to slow as I throw my face into my hands agian. Suddenly there's a knock at the door and Nathan and I are on our feet in less than a second, darting for the door.

He grabs the handle and I shove him out of the way, looking through the peep hole. I push him away. "I got it!" I say, fiddling with the locks.

"No I do!" He yells. Suddenly, he tickles me and I stumble back, a smile threatening at my lips. He uses my fallen opportunity to peep through it himself. He unlatches the locks smoothly, opening the door to greet our curious staring parents.

"Hey Mom." Nathan says, out of breath and grinning. His hands are behind his back and he picks at his polished fingers. I stand on balls of my feet over and over as I stand behind him, looking down.

Mom steps in, stomping on the welcome mat as Dad does the same, removing the sly rain on their boots. "Nadia, you okay darling?" She passes Nathan and picks up my face inspecting it like she did Nathan's just weeks ago. She lets it go and my face drops loosely as she pecks my cheek.

"Mmm, chili?" Dad asks and Nathan nods, smiling triumphantly. "Yes, and I think it's just finishing." He adds.

. . .

Dinner wasn't bad. I had half a bowl of chili and it earned a few curious glares from all three of my family members. After talking my whole dinner away to assure I was fine, I finally went back up to my room.

I'm ready to do some Barnes & Noble research for my next good read. As the webpage loads slowly, something white catches my eye ahead. A white sticky note is stuck to my backpack that I've never noticed. I slowly sit my Macbook on the spread and jump out of my bed, landing softly on the white, fuzzy carpet placed under my bed. I walk toward the backpack, grabbing the note.

A number, ten digits.

There's a heart next to it, but then I realize it might be someone's mispacled note, meant for another's eyes. No one has the same hair or backpack as me, so it must be on my backpack for a reason.

Curiosity takes over me and I find myself running down the stairs, grabbing the home phone. Looking over the number one more time, I take a deep breath and dial it. It rings three times before an annoying accent I know all to well speaks.

"Hello?"

"Hey." I mumble, ready to hang up. Now that I know it's Jacob, I probably seem just as annoying to him as he does me.

"Nadia?"

Suddenly, I hang up, unaware of the action. My finger swipes over the red button softly as I stare at the phone in my hands, placing it back on the charger. Jacob calls again as I turn on my heels and head for my room. After the fourth ring, I run back toward the phone, noting at the blue caller ID screen before running back to my booked (lireally) library I call my room.