The Optimist

thirty six

Jacob

. . .

I take another deep breath and shove my hands in my pocket. Yes, I can do this. I tell myself. I ruffle my wild curls with a quick, swfit shake of my head and lift my gaze from the ground to a rather pale looking Nadia. She's surveying her pale fingers, the nails red and raw from the constant nervous gnawing.

I internally cringe at them. Even though I can't feel her pain, a sharp, tingling feeling runs through my fingers. She gazes up at me through her lashes, scattered across her eyelids in the most uneven fashion. Her slightly red eyes must be burning a hole in her pants, she's staring into them so hard.

"Okay, look at you." I start again. "You look like a mess. Everyone out there looks fine but you. It's like your Dad isn't even sick!" I say, the words rushing through my brain in a race. "He may not be my dad but, shit, I wouldn't be this worried. You honestly look like.." I stop myself.

"What?" She drops her gaze back to her lap again. Her back is slouched over as she breathes unsteadily.

"Nothing." I mumble, automatically feeling guilty. I hadn't even said what she looked like and I'm already feeling her anguish.

"Just say it." She says, trying to motivate me. It doesn't work.

"No, you're fine without it." I warm her. I look down and spot a book next to my foot. As I bend down to pick it up, I smile at the title. The Hunger Games.

"You're a fan?" I cock an eyebrow and swipe a thumb over the dark cover, smiling.

"Jacob," she groans, standing up to grab the book. She almost collapses as she does it, buckling under her own weight, but I catch her in time. I drop the book and grab both of her hands, pulling her upright and close to my chest.

"Me talking bad to you to motivate you wasn't a very good idea. I'm not tough stuff." I sigh, knowing it's true. I knew I should've just stuck to my optimistic ways to help her, but I didn't think they were working.

"You barely said anything though," she smiles as she pulls back, retreating from my embrace. It's the first smile I've seen in weeks besides her fake smiles she'd put on for everyone. I noticed, and I'm sure Nathan noticed too, but Chres or Mrs. Crestfield didn't.

"Because there's nothing bad to say." I peck her nose and guide her to the bed. She takes a seat and I plop next to her, the bed welcoming me with a low droop as I sit on it. She picks up the fallen Hunger Games that fell next to her bed.

She smiles and sits the book down, staring me straight in the eyes. It's then I notice the thin, barely noticable pale blue rim on the outer parts of her eyeball. Blindness. I ignore the fact immediately and better focus on the smile still sprinted on her face.

"Tell me, honestly. What do you think about me?" Her eyes bare an expectant look as she stares into mine. I sigh and shake my head, breaking the stare. I'll sound like a fool.

"It's okay, Jacob. You can tell me. I promise you, I take critism well."

Is Nadia..

.. being..

.. optimistic?

I beam and grasp her in my arms again. The force is so hard, we both tumble backward on her queen sized bed, the both of us engulfed in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. She giggles and grabs my Afro, tugging it.

"You're being-"

"Optimistic." She smiles shyly. "I know. I've been trying to be for the past two weeks even thought I didn't show it. This was my first attempt as being optimistic toward a human, verbally. But it sucked, I know-"

"Ah ah ah!" I interrupt her. I sit up first, pulling her up second. "That's not being optimistic. Not that last part," I warn her. She shrugs, fetching a nearby pillow. Out of nowhere, a sudden whack to the face almost knocks me out as I fumble back, breathless from the unexpected blow.

"What the..?" I cough, patting my chest. Nadia's laughter taunts me menacingly as I try to recover my labored breaths.

"Dude, that was a simple, light hit. You're so weak." She giggles, patting the pillow with a sheer smile. I recover just enough in time to swipe a pillow from behind her, whacking her before she has time to register what's going on.

"How'd you-"

WHACK!

She stumbes back from her standing position and grips the small pillow with both hands, smiling dare devilishly. She charges at me with the pillow, but I defend myself, thrusting the pillow in front of her. She collides with it and then the floor, pretending to be knocked out.

I stand up and lean over her fake dead body, grinning. "Don't ever try to have a pillow fight with me because in the king at-" Her eyes rapidly flash open and again, before I know it, I'm hit with another blow from her pillow.

Our laughter continues to fill the room as we battle in a pillow fight, playfully ferocious. She gets more hits in, but I get more dodges in and it's an unsteady pattern of hitting and missing each other.

SMACK!

BAM!

"BOO!" she calls out before striking me in the face with her pillow.

. . .

Tired, breathless and utterly in pain from the constant laughter, we both lay on the floor of her bedroom, breathing heavily. She rests on the fallen pillow as mine sits next to me, flat. All of the cushiony cotton is pulled to one side from the hilarious gory battle.

Finally catching my breath, I stare up at her baby blue painted ceiling, muttering an "I love you."

Before she can return the gracious comment, someone barges in her room, the door slamming against the wall violently. Nathan. He grins from ear to ear.

"Sweaty? Breathless? And.. on the floor?" His voice pitches higher and higher with each question. He gasps, covering his O shaped lips with his hand. "Have you two been..?" He trails off. I know where this is getting at.

"No, Nathan." I stop his irritant thoughts. With all of my strength, I muster up the energy to sit up, clutching my kness close after lifting Nadia.

"Well, Mom wanted me to let you guys know that dinner is ready. I didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on in here.. you little freaks." He snickers playfully. Nadia tosses her pillow in his direction as he just barely dodges it, catching the flying object before it can knock him out. He grins at Nadia, then me, then turns to exit, leaving the door open.

"Nathan! Close my-"

"It's alright." I peck her delicate, chapped lips again and hug her tightly. She lays her head on my shoulder with ease and I can sense her smile.

"I love you." We both say simultaneously.

WHACK!

. . .