Chapter twelve

12.

“Hey guys. How much longer do we have for lunch? I'm so hungry I could eat... well, the cafeteria lunch!” I joked around.

Sophia gave a little chuckle. “We still have about 15 or 20 minutes, I think. Where have you been all this time?” Her second sentence was a bit hurried, and pointed. I saw her giving me a “look”, meaning, “Where in the heck have you been, I thought we were working together to help R, and you're jetting off, you lousy friend!”

I gave a big sigh, trying to exaggerate it as much as I could. “Eh, well, we all know how popular I am. I could barely make my way to the door, what with all the screaming fan girls – and guys!”

I looked at R for the first time. He was sitting there on the bench, between Sophia and I, looking down at his hands and not really talking. He hadn't even laughed at my joke. That made quite a bit more worried than I already was. R almost always laughed at my jokes, even if it was just a sarcastic laugh at the lame ones. But no, he was just sitting there, staring down at his wrists, like he was frozen. So I took one step further and spoke directly to him.

“Hey R, did you eat already? Because I brought a home lunch today,” I held it up, “and you can have some of it if you want.”

His head snapped up, suddenly, and the look on his face was angry. “Why is everyone trying to give me charity? My mom is the sick one, not me. I already ate, thank you very much. Now just leave me alone, will you?”

My eyes opened wide, and I looked at Sophia for some help. She just shrugged. I guess R had been ticked off at her, too. At least it wasn't just me. He was probably just in a fowl mood, and I didn't blame him. I didn't say anything else to him, either. I just sat still and ate the lunch my mom had packed for me. Sophia stayed silent, also, and R just sat there, brooding. Or at least, that's sure what it seemed like. The bell rang, and we scattered to our various classes. R was off to math or something like that, and Sophia followed me to our history class.

“Shane, R's gone, you don't have to keep up the silence.”

“I don't care. There's nothing to talk about.”

“Yes there is, and you know it! Don't just ignore the problem in front of you. R is probably worse than you think. And seriously, where were you earlier?”

I spun around on my heels and faced her, fed up. Not just with her, but with everything, the whole situation. It was too much. “I was with James, okay? And he was oh-so-worried about R, too. He seems to think R might be 'getting mixed up in some serious stuff'. Now, answer me this. Why does everybody seem to be getting all chummy, buddy-buddy with R right as his mom gets sick? I don't remember any of you beating down a path to his house before this happened. Do you?”

She blushed, and looked embarrassed. I felt a bit stupid, too, actually, but only a bit. Not enough for me to take back the words I had already put out.

“Oh, never mind. Let's just go to class.”

So we did. We went to class, learned all about the French Revolution, and then parted ways. I didn't talk to Sophia for the rest of the day, and I was glad. I didn't talk much to anybody, actually, and I was totally fine with that. It was mostly my choice, anyway.

I had one class with James, and I caught him shooting a few worried glances my way, but I deliberately ignored all of them, and scurried out of the classroom as fast as I could. When all my classes were over, I raced to my backpack and was ready to make it out of school in record time, and then I remembered.

Counseling!

I still had a session to go to. I wasn't even sure when they ended, actually. Someday... I was dreading that session more than I had ever dreaded one before. Well, I basically dreaded all of them, but I wasn't looking forward to it even more than usual. Mr. Quirk would probably sense right away that something was wrong – he was a counselor, after all. Even though he was a pretty strange one. Then he would start pressuring me about R, about everything, and I just didn't think I could stand that. But I couldn't very well skip it. That might make me have 2-hour sessions or something horrible like that. Sighing deeply, I turned in the direction of my counselor's office, and trudged my way there. I was really ticked off, and I could tell that Miss Germain saw it in my expression, maybe even in the way I was walking, because when I was starting to open Mr. Quirk's office door, she told me,

“Shane, I know you don't really like these counseling sessions and everything... but maybe this one will be good for you.”

I didn't reply, just walked through the door. But she knew that I heard her.

“Ah, good afternoon, Shane.” As I sat down in my usual chair, Mr. Quirk sounded a bit worried. He obviously saw the same thing that Miss Germain had seen. I wasn't even quite positive what it was, but I wasn't very happy that I was so easy to read. I had always thought I was somewhat good at ruling my body language. But certain people had always been able to pierce right through that barrier. Like James. And Miss Germain and Mr. Quirk. But maybe it was just them, not me.

“I have a question for you, Shane.”

“And how is that any different than usual?” I was feeling very sarcastic.

“It's a different question, that's how. Now, I'm feeling that you still don't feel very comfortable talking to me, and you often don't answer my questions truthfully, or at all. Is that true?”

I refused to look at him. “Yes.”

A sigh. “Well, then I'm going to be no help to you. Unless you are willing to tell me about yourself, than there's no point in doing this.”

I perked up a little. “Does that mean we're going to stop?” I immediately felt sorry. I hadn't meant to sound mean, but thinking about it through his point of view, that would sound very rude. “I'm sorry.”

He sighed again. “No, it's fine. I understand that lots of people, adults included, don't like being analyzed. But we still have to continue until the end of December. Principals orders.”

I let out a groan. Mr. Quirk smiled a little sadly. Well, maybe not sadly. Like he was sorry.

“Yes, I know. It's quite a while. And that's why I'm getting worried, Shane. I know that something's bothering you. But you're not letting it out. That's what I'm here for; I'm simply someone you can talk to. And it doesn't matter if you talk about your friends. Nobody else will hear this information, especially if you ask me exclusively not to let it out.”

I was amazed at how kind Mr. Quirk was being. He was sympathetic, and that surprised me the most, since I was sitting there in his office basically slapping him on the face by telling him that I didn't want to continue talking to him. That affection threw me off the edge. I started talking, chattering, on and on and on.

“I know. I know! I just felt, well, kind of annoyed. More than annoyed, dang, I can't think of the word. But, I just wasn't very happy that the principal seemed to think that I needed a counselor so badly. And I totally resented that. I guess I just felt like he thought I was abnormal or something, and here I am trying to blend into the walls so people won't notice me, and the principal of all people, says that he thinks I'm interesting!

“And now my best friend's mom has cancer. Serious cancer. And R is acting like he doesn't even want friends anymore, and doesn't want me to help him and all that junk, and it's just making me even more frustrated and confused. I mean, I know that R tries to come off with a sort of tough guy routine, but I know that on the inside he's really a softie. So I don't see why he has to be acting like such a jerk! He's hurting, and I can tell, but he refuses to admit it.”

Mr. Quirk injected a few words while I was taking a breath. “Well, you know, somebody might be able to say the same for you. I think you're hurting, too, Shane, but have you admitted it to yourself?”

It was those moments that I remembered Mr. Quirk was a counselor, not just an average guy. He had training about this kind of stuff. And wow, sometimes he was good.

I closed my eyes. I thought. I sighed. “You're right. I am hurting. But it seems so weird to say that to myself, you know? I mean, I'm trying to be mature, and not a wuss. And I'm a guy, so if any of the girls saw me acting all chicken, they'd know I'm a sissy.”

Mr. Quirk spent a few moments looking thoughtful. “But at least now you know how R is feeling, right? That might give you an edge on knowing how to act around him. Don't you think?”

“Well, I guess. Maybe. But I still can't think of anything right now. And what's even worse, is that I keep thinking about myself, and not just R. Like I keep feeling so ashamed and sorry for myself because R is going through this too, but ten times worse, and he's being so much stronger than me. My feelings just don't make sense. If anyone asks, I say, 'I'm fine...'”

Mr. Quirk's lips twitched in an amused way, but he hid it well. “That's because you're male. We say we're fine even if we don't mean it, because, like you said, we don't want girls to know we're really not all that brave on the inside, right?” He seriously winked right then, but not in a creepy way, just in a friendly you-won't-believe-this way. “And believe it or not, girls do exactly the same thing. We're all human and all have flaws.”

“Some more than others, unfortunately.”

“Yes, but who are you to judge? Everybody is their own worst critic.”

I sat up straighter. “I've heard that before somewhere.”

He nodded. “Yes, it's rather common knowledge. And there are a lot of truths just in those few words. But we won't go into all that now, unless you want to.”

I had an idea. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Why, yes, of course.” He looked a little surprised at first, but then graciously complied.

“Does life ever get less confusing when you're older?”

“No, not at all!” He laughed, throaty and warm. “But as you grow, you will acquire wisdom, to help with some of the confusion. It never really goes away, mostly just balances out. Why do you ask? Anything in particular on your mind about that subject?”

“Well, sort of. The girl, Sophia, that I told you about before, well, we're basically friends, I guess. But I still don't know her very well. And yet...” It sounded even stranger coming out of my lips than when it had happened. “She showed up at my house this morning and woke me up. I was considering skipping school,” I admitted.

“Then that must mean she really is your friend. But I sense some doubts in you.”

“I've never really had a girl for a friend before,” I admitted to him again. “And so I don't really know what to do. It feels weird spending time with her. Especially since she's probably the most confusing person I know...” My brow knit. Mr. Quirk watched me talk. “I still don't know why she wanted to be my friend in the first place.”

I told him the whole story about the note, and what she had said to me on Monday, and several other things. I had hoped that when I had everything out in the open, cards on the table, it might help clear the fog a little. But the fog hadn't lifted, I still felt like I was wandering through it without even a flashlight. Still confused. But I talked with Mr. Quirk about several more things, and he did have very insightful and good ideas sometimes. I was surprised when his watch beeped and our time was up. He stood from his desk, and I from my chair. He took my hand and shook it hard.

“It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Shane. See you tomorrow, hmm?”

“Yeah, uh, yes.”

As I left his office and the high school building, a thought struck me. He's not so quirky after all. And he might even be a good friend. Friend. What a strange word.