24 Hours

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

                It was nearly time for the end of my confessions. I sighed, as I opened the door to the class. Here was the part I’d feared the most.

                “I lie. I lie a lot. I’m a pathological liar.” That’s it. That was my speech.

                My teacher gave me a funky look, as if to say “what are you talking about?” I had never before been so at a loss for word. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed. I’d said so many horrible things that day about other people, and I could only say a mere sentence about myself.

                So I reached into my pocket and stared at the word “confess.” I stared at it until my eyes hurt. Surely there must be something more to say. But…I couldn’t.

                I looked around the room, analyzing the people within it. Sitting near the window was the boy, looking through its glass towards a light drizzle of rain, which had begun shortly after I’d gone on the bus that morning.

                With a burst of energy and a deep sigh, I began to approach him. He didn’t glance at me as I sat down in the seat across of him, and I hadn’t expected him too.

                I just looked at him and waited. He was a patient boy, and I knew it. However, I was the only girl crazy enough to sit by him while he was in a bad mood. Boys got irritated and irritable and irritating. Still, I felt this boy had so much more to say.

                “So you’re a liar, huh?”

                It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say, but he did. And it was fine. I laughed, and gave him a flash of a smile. “Yeah,” I giggled, “that wasn’t my best speech of the day.”

                The boy turned towards me again and grinned, His smile made the cloudy, dull ambient from through the window seem as bright as the sun, so I dared to grin back.

                “Yeah,” he said, “why are you doing that? The speeches?” His grin faded to an straight line, tilted slightly upwards at the corner. Mine did the same.

                “It’s kind of complicated,” I said.

                The boy simply laughed. “Are you lying about that too?”

                My smile widened once more to reveal slightly yellowed teeth with navy blue braces. “No,” I responded, “of course not. How do you know I wasn’t lying about lying, anyways?”

                The boy replied with a shake of the head and a flash of the teeth. “I’m serious though.” Both our smiles faded as he awaited my justification.

                I sighed. “A couple years back, my best friend passed away. Now, I have plenty of friends, but no best friends. I feel like no one wants to be around me; I talk too much, I look ugly, I’m rude. It’s as if whatever I say is something I’d never say at all. Point is, I’ve been kind of depressed ever since. My mom had to send me to a psychologist.”

                I put my hands on the table, flipped them over, and started playing with my fingers. I figured it was a better choice than to look the boy in the eye.

                “I understand,” he said.

                My fingers froze as I lifted my head to look him in the eyes. He was not smiling, and the blue around his pupils had darkened a good amount since my last remark. He put his right hand on mine – and then the left – and dropped his gaze. I didn’t move me hands this time.