Smile, Synonym

[15] The Mistake of Ignoring

Fletcher hadn't seen or talked to Sam since the incident last week. However, unlike their previous encounters, the consequences from the fight had made their relationship somewhat civil.

But not casual. Not that Fletcher minded though — either way, it meant still less hassle and certainly less guilt.

Fletcher hadn't intentionally chosen to go to the cafeteria this lunchtime but, since Orchid's Park was closed for today, he had no other choice but to eat his lunch here.

It was noisier than he remembered. Students were chatting and laughing so loud it hurt Fletcher's ears. It was messier too, but not just because they were in the cafeteria. Overcrowding was one, considering that Kelly High has been getting more students the past couple of years, there wasn't enough tables for everyone so some students sat and ate their lunch on the floor. Then there was the disorganisation. Because the teachers had their own eating area, students could do whatever they want as long it didn't break any rule in the code of conduct, like attempting to throw an empty carton of milk in the trash can located at other end of the cafeteria. Lastly there was the procrastination, particularly from the juniors and seniors, which, in itself, was an entirely different kind of mayhem as students terribly struggled to finish their due homework and projects before the bell rang.

Just when Fletcher decided to go to the library instead, he saw Sam. He was sitting alone in one of the tables down the corner, with his head down and his attention solely on his food. Fletcher caught the teasing stares and mocks some kids threw at him from the other table. He wasn't sure if Sam noticed them or not, but Fletcher knew that this definitely wasn't the first time Sam was treated like this by the other students.

From where he sat, Sam looked so lonely and vulnerable — so desperate to want to fit in. The image mirrored a girl that Fletcher used to know, whose presence was never valued by anyone — including Fletcher himself — not even when she smiled and gave away all the sunshine she had tucked in her pockets until it eventually ran out.

Fletcher had made the mistake of ignoring that image back then. And he wasn't — not ever — going to do that again.

So he marched down to Sam's table, sat across from the frizzy-haired boy, and ate his lunch there.

It earned Fletcher a pointy look from Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"There were no other seats," Fletcher explained as he took a bite from his grilled-cheese sandwich.

"You're not doing this because you pity me, are you?"

"No," Fletcher replied. "I'm here because I have no other choice."

Fletcher heard Sam scoff, but didn't miss the way the edge of his lip tugged to form a small smile.

—

By the time fifth period ended, Fletcher really wanted to take a nap. History was just another boring discussion and, with Chemistry as his next period, Fletcher was just about ready to skip school to head home and sleep.

He didn't have to worry about his drowsiness any longer though because, as he neared the English room, Fletcher heard yelling.

And it came from two very unlikely sources: Mrs. Cuthbert and star-student Noor Rahal.

"I am a teacher, Ms. Rahal, you do not get to raise your voice at me —"

"Yes, and as a teacher, you should learn how to understand your students!" Noor answered back in a tone that contrasted to her proper, well-mannered personality. "Why does it matter if Thea wasn't the type to commit suicide? What matters is that she wasn't happy!"

"Then how come she never told anyone about it —"

"Because no one cared enough!" Noor yelled, her words so raw and sharp that it caused the other students who were within their vicinity to pause. "Because simple-minded people like you think that because she looks happy and acts happy, then she is happy. But she wasn't and no one in this god-foresaken school — not even the teachers or the guidance counsellors — had bothered to ask her if she was! So you don't get to criticise Thea. Not when all you ever did was assume everything about her was perfectly fine!"

There was a terrible silence that followed once Noor finished. The kind that allowed her words to linger in the air until it stuck to your skin and it became all you could think about.

Because Noor was right.

And it was utterly terrifying just how right she was.

"To the principal's office, Ms. Rahal," Mrs. Cuthbert finally said, her voice on the edge. "Now."

A second later, Noor was seen leaving the English room, her eyes filled with anger and her posture rigid. On her way to the principal's, she bumped into Fletcher.

"Move," she muttered, sparing no glance at Fletcher and continued walking until she was out of sight.

From her actions to her words — from her politeness to her hostility — Fletcher wondered, for a brief second, if she felt guilty for not caring enough too.