How to Save a Life ✓

IX: In Which She Takes Candids

CHAPTER NINE

In school, there would always be assembly meetings where a motivational speaker talks about suicide prevention. Through many monotone slides, they always go to explain that you don't have to die, and that you always have a support group. Because it's so easy to tell someone your feelings. Not everyone has something they can trust and saying something so deep inside of you can be terrifying.

Sometimes, it's just easier to fake a smile and pretend you're okay.

I shiver for a second before tugging my jacket more tightly around my waist. It's particularly chilly today and I made the wrong decision with not bringing another sweater. Taking my camera out and adjusting the settings for a few pictures, I hide behind a lens and take pictures of an artificial world.

While the sun is out, there are a few clouds looming by, signaling that it will rain a few hours or so. Since it's noon, not many cars were passing by the Golden Gate Bridge so I took this as the opportunity to get closer to the middle so I could get some pictures of the top.

Glancing in my general direction, I spot Noah looking over the water in deep thought. Instead of the kind smile that he would often show me, worry lines covered his face as he touches the rusting metal.

What is that weirdo doing here?

Being an even bigger weirdo, I point my camera and take a picture. A smile smile creeps up my face when I see the candid. Candids are the best, instead of seeing synthetic smiles, you see the real side of the person.

A side anyone rarely sees.

I approach his carefully and when I'm close enough I mumble, "You make a good candid."

Apparently I startled him because he jumps up slightly and turns to me. "What do you mean?"

"Candid. It's a picture taken without the subjects knowledge. You're my subject. It seems a bit stalkerish, I know, but those are the best types of pictures. Want to see it?"

He looks at me for a second before nodding and saying sure. I show him the picture and a paint smile lines on his lips.

"I'm impressed. You're a good photographer. You should join the photography contest at school."

I vaguely remember posters around school promoting the contest at school. I thought about joining but I didn't know if it would be too much work. The prize is small, a hundred dollars, but for someone like me, I could really use the money.

"I'll think about it. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Does there have to be a specific reason? I like going here."

"There's a reason for everything Noah. Whether it's because you like the view or you're waiting for someone, there is always a reason for something. Even if you don't know it."

He thinks about my statement for sometime but untimely avoids it and deflects it to me instead. "Why do you like going here?"

I shrug and respond, "The scenery is nice, and taking pictures here never gets old. I like to think a lot here too."

"Don't your parents get worried that you're always out here?"

"Not really. Mom doesn't care. Dad's dead."

I don't miss the moment of awkward silence that came out after I say that. I don't even know why I said it in the first place. It just slipped out.

"My hamster died when I was nine. I feel. Really, I do."

I look at him ludicrously as he says that. "Did you really compare my father dying to a twenty dollar hamster?"

He put his hands up in fake surrender. "Hey, I'm sorry I don't have dead parents. I want to empathetic without saying sorry. It annoys the shit out of me when people say that."

"True. It ticks me when people say sorry. That's why I don't like telling people anything."

That's the last thing that's said before we descend into another silence. His finger traces over the chips of dry paint that is starting to fall off trying the ledge. Seeing that there isn't really anything to say anymore, I'm about to say goodbye when he says, "You're confusing. You know that right?"

"And why is that?"

"Well, every time I approached you, you reject me. Bruised my ego, by the way. Now that I left you alone, you're actually willing to talk to me. Is this a want what you can't have sort of thing?"

I scoff and look at him again, "I just wanted to show you the candid. Didn't know you would get a huge ego out of it. We're not friends."

"Of course we aren't." He smiles bemusedly.

"We aren't." I repeated.

"Never said we were."

"Okay. Well I got to go. See you in class I guess. Bye." He doesn't have a chance to say anything else because I slowly back away until I practically run.

Well that was weird.