Saving Everest (Wattpad Books Edition)

6. Everest

The first thing I noticed about Beverly was the four freckles that sat on the bridge of her nose. I immediately felt bad at how quickly I dismissed her. She looked harmless. I watched as her big brown eyes filled with disappointment, and she released my hand before she smiled.

"Good thing we aren't in hell."

Is she for real?

"Are you hungry?" she asked randomly.

"Not really," I responded, quirking my left eyebrow at her. This girl was sort of strange.

"You sure? I don't mind splitting my sandwich, and plus smoking can't possibly be a filling lunch." She laughed quietly at her lame joke and looked down at her shoes before glancing back up at me.

This girl was too nice. I already felt like a jerk for being rude, and although I was going through some stuff right now, she hadn't done anything to me. I threw the cigarette on the ground and immediately crushed it under my boot. I took a deep breath while I bit down on my lip. "What kind of sandwich are we talking about here?"

I was hungrier than I realized and ended up eating my half and Beverly's. She saw me eyeing her half, and so she just gave it to me.

"Turkey and avocado is actually way better than what I thought it would taste like." I spoke into the silence.

"Told you," she said, and stared at me in almost an observing way, like she was the scientist and I was the specimen. Fidgeting in the oak chair, I looked away because, honestly, that was really weird.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?" she asked, her nose wrinkling slightly.

No one had ever asked me that question. The only instance was when we all had to fill out those random questionnaires on the first day of school so the teachers could get to know us better, but I was in the hospital this year, so I didn't exactly get the chance to read that question and jot down those same eight letters. Mostly because that was what I liked to do, and partly because that was the answer everyone expected me to put. I'd had a football glued to my hand for as long as I could remember. My dad played for this school back in his day, so I guessed he wanted to keep the legacy alive.

The game was fun for a while, but the pressure of winning wasn't. My dad got a call from the coach saying that I couldn't be quarterback this year because I missed too many practices while I was in the hospital, but I think we both knew it was because they didn't want a nutcase running the team. My dad's heated glare still followed me, and the mist of disappointment and disgust still hung in that room.

"I like to sing?" I said. I hadn't spoken this revelation out loud before, and not answering "football" for the first time was tripping me out a little bit.

Her eyes grew bigger and she smiled an open-mouthed smile, her chest raised as if she had something on the tip of her tongue but couldn't get it out.

"Really? I work at this café on Brisklin Street and we have a lot of underground artists and people who come and play their music. You should come over sometime."

She almost reminded me of a cartoon character, she was so animated. I stared at her for a minute, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why I'd just told her that.

"Maybe I will," I said before I heard the dismissal bell.

What just happened?