The Importance of The Innocent: A Portrait of The Modern Girl

Part 2: AVA

!@#$%^&

I go through the typical motions of the school day, half­-sleeping during class and feeling distracted guys' eyes lingering on my body all day. I sit through the bore and wait until resource time, when I plan to find and talk to her.

When the fourth period bell rings, I stand up from my desk and power-­walk into the hall. I locate the art girl walking down the main chamber, without a care in the world from the looks of her face. I follow her, moving in and out of crowds to avoid being seen. She enters the library, and I follow not far behind.

She immediately sits at a computer and logs in. I stare at a bookshelf to avoid looking suspicious. After some time, I walk up to her.

She glances up above her glasses for a moment and says, "Sorry, one sec. This is a hard­-ass level!"

I watch her play the computer game for a while, but she eventually gives up. "Take a seat," she says. "The fact that you're standing up makes me nervous."

I sit down.

"What's up, girl?" she asks in an upbeat tone.

I look at her face. It is that same pretty face from before, with those same glasses and the same hair with the flower in it, and those clothes that match completely. But there is a scar right below her eye.

She finally breaks the long silence. "You don't talk much, do you?"

I laugh.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, I am sorry. It's just that you are not exactly talkative usually."

She glances down. "Yeah, I know..."

"Hey, that is not bad... I mean, I'm talkative and look at where I am!"

She adjusts her glasses. "What's that supposed to mean? You have all the friends you could ask for."

"Well---­­­I..." I pause, but she looks interested enough to keep listening. Not many people I know like to listen for long periods of time, because that's too much work; it's too taxing for their feeble minds. "I don't think we have even really introduced each other," I finally say. "My name is Moxy. What's yours?"

"Ava... Ava Silverburgh."

"Pretty name. Heh. Mine sounds like shit."

She smiles, a sweet innocent smile. "Thanks, but I hate my name. It sounds like a popular girl's name, like the kind of girl who you can't rely upon for more than a day."

"Maybe we should swap names?"

"Hey, that's not a bad idea!"

We both laugh.

I look at the screen, at the game, which still reads 'game over.' "So, you're into gaming?"

"Yeah I am. You wouldn't be the first to ask me like that. Not many girls play games."

"No that's cool. You do what you want, what you like to do."

"Yep, that's true." She sighs. "I wish I could say I always do what I want... People are ignorant bastards. Everyone wants me to be a certain way, to not like things because 'they're for boys.' I hate when people do that."

"Yeah, me too... I hate doing what people want me to do."

There is yet another silence, and then she turns to me and looks through those big glasses of hers. She has a curious expression on her face, a symmetrical reflection appearing in her lenses. "Why are you even here, Moxy? I've seen you so many times before in class. You seem so happy all the time. Why would you want to talk to me? And why now?"