Flawed Perception

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After dinner, Brittany left, but not before giving Nick her number. I didn't know why I was surprised that she managed to be just like every other girl. I felt like I was giving her too much credit all the time we had known each other, like I thought she was like me, different. If I cared more then it would have bothered me, but it didn't.

I went to bed early, determined to finish the book Mr. Garcia had lent me. I did. I had learned about women's suffrage before, but the book focused on individuals. Some were writers, some activists, some were everyday women. It was eye opening to know that the way I lived was only possible because of the people in this book. It was humbling.

I slept soundly and awoke the same time as usual. Same routine-shower, clothes, hair, food, then left for school. This time I didn't have any awkward run-ins with Nick in the hall. As I toasted my bread and readied to leave I noticed him sleeping on the couch. He looked like a little boy, peacefully resting.

For some reason, it reminded me of when we were younger. For that second he wasn't a pothead, he wasn't one of my brother's friends, he was Nicky Hadley. The little boy who I used to star gaze with. The kid who would defend me against bullies. Thinking back to that time made it seem so far away. Too far to go back. I shook the illusion and left.

I could think back and remember things, look at him and be reminded of a child I had long forgotten, but that wouldn't change a thing. He changed. I changed. Neither of us were the same person we were then. I didn't know who he was anymore. There was hardly a time when he was not under the influence of something, so it was doubtful I had seen him sober in months. That alone was enough to remind me to steer clear of him and the rest of my brother's group.

The weather was cooler. There were clouds in the sky and no spots of blue peeking out. The clouds were gray, it looked like it might rain. I didn't mind. Living in Washington, rain just became a part of my routine. No matter the time of year, I always carried an umbrella.

I hurried to school. I was excited to talk about the book I had finished with Mr. Garcia. Even though I knew he would arrive the same time he always did, I still rushed. I arrived at school with thirty-five minutes until class. I took out the book and re-read some of my favorite parts. Before I knew it time had flown by and Mr. Garcia was unlocking the door.

"So, I'm guessing you liked it," he said.

"Yes, I did. I think it's my favorite so far. I didn't know that there were male feminists."

"Yep. It's amazing isn't it, that back then even men could see that the women in their lives weren't being respected. You don't come across that kind of respect very often, even today," he told me. There was a glint in his eyes, as if this was something he felt strongly about.

"That's true," I began. I thought about how many people, especially men, in my life who would actually stand up for my rights. No one came to mind. "I don't think many guys would stick up for our rights today."

"Here's your book," I told him as I walked toward his desk.

"Nope, you keep it. You seemed to really enjoy it."

"Really?" I asked excitedly. He nodded. "Thanks Mr. Garcia. I'll read it over and over again, I promise." He smiled.

All day during classes the students were chattering on and on. It was Friday so it was to be expected. Fridays were frustrating. The people were louder than usual. Fridays were actually the only days anyone spoke to me. There were usually parties so at least one or two people would approach me about going, either passing out flyers or a holding a jar and collecting beer money. Every time I would open my mouth to speak and they would start walking again.