Cross My Heart

Not A Social Animal

BECKETT

I tucked my work apron into my backpack as I entered school grounds. As I made my way through the parking lot, I felt someone besides me.

"Good morning." I turned to a smiling Jeremy. 

He was at it again. It had been more than a week now since I had accepted the challenge. I hadn't really taken it seriously but he seemed to leave no stone unturned to capture my attention. I would have been moved by his persistence if I didn't know how half-hearted it was. 

"Good morning," he said again.

I just nodded in response.

"It doesn't seem like you'r very well-versed in social greeting, are you?" he said.

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" I pushed open the doors to the front entrance of the school. 

"It's an observation."

"Does your observation have a point?" I walked towards my locker.

"It means, when someone says 'good morning', you should say it back."

"Why?"

"It's courteous."

"It's also courteous not to break someone's heart."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"It's an observation." I gave him a wry smile. 

"Does it bother you?" He smiled.

"No," I shrugged, "I could care less." 

His smile disappeared.

"Then why bring it up?"

"Do you always get this defensive?"

"What?"

"I made a simple statement and you're acting as if I told you God doesn't exist."

"Look, I've been trying for the past two weeks and you barely give an inch. All I get is bored looks, one word answers, a shrug. It seems like I'm the only one being sincere here."

"Now that's bullshit," I said, opening my locker.

"Excuse me?" His voice went up an octave.

I turned to face him. 

"You're being sincere? You?" I chuckled. "The calculated head tilts and smiles. Your erect but relaxed posture. You probably even control the dilation of your irises. Everything about you is cold and calculated. Right now, the hurt in your voice, even that's an act."

He let our a breath of disbelief.

"You say you're giving your best effort? I see it as nothing but mediocre at best. And you know what I hate? When people are dishonest, even when they're confronted with the truth. And you, you're the epitome of deception and dishonesty. Jeremy Drake," I said, taking a step towards him, "I'm too smart for you. So stop trying to play mind games with me."

I pulled out my necessary books and slammed my locker shut. 

"I hope we won't be seeing anymore of each other," I said.

Then, I walked past an exasperated Jeremy Drake. 

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JEREMY

I was so furious I was seeing red. 

I wasn't being sincere? I was the 'epitome of deception and dishonesty'? Who the hell did she think she was?

Even as Mr. Finch chattered away, I stared daggers at her. Even when we broke into groups to discuss our projects, I was wishing her desk would collapse underneath her; that lightning would strike her. My partner just stared nervously at me, not daring to say a word.

I was so angry...so angry...but at what? That she had seen right through me? That everything she had said was so accurate that it hurt?

Most girls I approached usually fell for me in a matter of seconds. Even for the girls who played hard to get, I just had to make slight alterations to the words I said and they would melt like butter. But with Beckett, even the right words seemed wrong. All girls knew my reputation and still, they chose to trust me. I was the caution tape around a crime scene that most girls ignored. But Beckett, she saw the caution tape, turned around, and walked away. She lacked the stupidity that caused many girls to ignore the warning sign that I was. She was right. She was too smart for me.

She was right. I had barely made an effort with her. I had used less than 1% of my energy with her. To be honest, I hadn't put much effort into anything lately, but to have it pointed out just made me angrier. She was saying I was hopeless; that I wasn't worth her time. 

Even as I glared at her, I couldn't help the sense of respect I felt for her. 

Beckett Tavora, who are you, really?