The quiet of the empty classroom was the perfect atmosphere for Vanessa. She enjoyed the calm at her desk during lunch while most students milled around outside, laughing, talking, filling the halls with noise. In here, with only the hum of the overhead lights for company, Vanessa could take on the challenge of her latest math equation in peace. She liked complicated problems, the kind that knotted themselves up in her mind before she could unwind them with focus. That focus brought her a sense of control she rarely found anywhere else.
She scribbled furiously, pausing to tap her pencil against her notebook. The problem was almost there—she could feel it—but something was still eluding her. She was frustrated but, strangely, a little delighted too. She enjoyed these mental puzzles; they occupied her mind in ways nothing else could. They gave her a break from the day-to-day thoughts that often tangled her up inside.
Just then, she noticed a small paper cup of root beer appear on her desk. She blinked, her train of thought halted. The paper cup looked out of place against the backdrop of numbers and graphs. Whoever had put it there was already gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts and this unexpected gift.
Flat root beer.
The faint, familiar smell drifted up from the cup, comforting in its own way. She liked root beer best when it was flat—when the sharp sting of carbonation was gone, leaving just the taste, sweet and simple. Her parents teased her for this habit sometimes, as if preferring her soda flat was just one more odd quirk in her long list. But now someone had noticed, even known, that she liked it this way? The realization was as baffling as the math problem she'd been working on.
Vanessa hesitated, feeling her routine—her perfect, dependable routine—waver just a bit. She thrived on order, on knowing exactly what each part of her day would bring. It was easier that way, safer somehow. People didn't usually go out of their way to talk to her or leave things for her, and she liked it that way. And yet...someone had thought of her. Someone who knew her preference. It felt oddly kind.
Taking a breath, she finally picked up the cup and took a tentative sip. The flat, familiar taste was exactly as she liked it. She didn't know who had left it or why they'd even bothered, but something in her chest softened, a subtle change in her tightly held routine.
Vanessa placed the cup down and turned her attention back to the equation, taking up her pencil again.
YOU ARE READING
a little bit crazy
Ciencia Ficciónit's about a teenager with mental health issues. She is very smart, but she doesn't exactly talk to people very often, accept people who she has to talk to like her parents and her teachers. people think she's a little bit crazy, and that is absolut...
