Project Smile

Eleven

Author's Note: Quite major trigger warning near the end of the chapter. Please be careful.

I'm beginning to become more and more concerned about Gabriel.

   It's not that I wasn't before; I've always been a little concerned about the quiet boy in the dark hood who has never smiled, not even with his eyes. I've always wanted to just take him in my arms and hug all of the bad thoughts out of them, squeeze until the only thing left in his head is love, love for others as well as for himself.

   But I feel like I see more and more of his sadness surfacing the more that I'm around him. Either that or it's because I see so many similarities between him and Zach that it's terrifying. Now I'm in a state of constant paranoia that Gabriel will just decide that he's not worth it and do something that he'll regret. I'm afraid that Project Smile won't work, won't be enough to save his life. I can't let that happen. I just can't.

   Sitting in class, I look over at him once more. Our project has already been presented, and I know that we did well. But I also know that half of it was just because we're both excellent at fabrication. Now they only think they know us. Little do they know that dark creatures crawled inside our heads long ago and still reside there, weaving webs and building nests in the darkest parts of our minds, waiting to strike.

   It's days into Project Smile, and I feel like the little good I've done has been reversed to all bad. I'm not giving up, it's just taking a little more time than I thought. Sure, I didn't think that Gabriel would be all happy and pepped up in one week, but there are more layers to him than I thought could ever be possible in a human being. I'm still working through them, trying to find out who Gabriel Lancaster really is, and now I'm just patiently waiting for him to show the rest to me.

   After the last group presents, we're allowed to spend the last ten minutes any way we want. I slowly reach for my backpack and pull out my binder and Gabriel's notebook. I open the binder, pulling out a sheet of paper. I need to write a note to Gabriel and tell him thank you. That's all I'll have to say. And he will never know that I was too afraid to open it.

   But this will give me the direct passage to his thoughts if I really want it.

   This will help me know how he actually feels every day, everything uncensored and uncut.

   I shoot a quick look at him and see that he's not looking over here. Slowly, I slide the book back into my backpack and begin flipping through the binder, trying to find the last poem that I wrote in here.

   And as I flip through, I see something that I never wanted to see again.

   Those few words that changed my life, the last written thought process of Zachary Bailey. Throughout the last year or two of his life, I never knew exactly what he was thinking. He'd become more cryptic by the day, and I never could crack his code until it broke right before my eyes.

   Maybe reading Gabriel's notebook will be the best thing for the both of us.

   I try to turn the page in the binder, but I can't seem to. When I try to move my hand, it's shaking horribly. Instead of flipping the page, I run my fingers over the two-year-old ink, feeling the indentions on the page. I touch all of the stains from the tears that dropped onto the page, all three of ours: Zach's, Pete's, and mine. I trace the words over and over, as if to burn them into my memory. Almost like it's not already there.

   I never knew the thoughts that swirled through his head. I never heard the whispers, neither real nor the ones in his mind. I should've, but I didn't.

   And it's gonna be different this time.

   When the bell rings, it's decided. I'm not going to the cafeteria today. I'm not gonna be seen at all in a few hours. Instead, I'll sit and I'll read every single thought that this boy has in his head.