EmPATHETICally Blind (A skinny love story)

Chapter 11: Life

   Matt's POV:

Emilee was oddly silent as we hung out the next day during study hall. We were used to comfortable silences between us, or just meaningless babble, but this silence felt off. Like she was holding back something. Definitely holding back something.

        "Well, spit it out." I say quietly. We're in the quiet spot in the back of the library, which is now our most common study hall spot.

        "I wish our generation wasn't so fucked up." She mumbles. Wait, what? Where did that come from?

        "Ohhhhhhhkay? Elaborate more?" I ask. She sighs and I hear her shifting on the carpet, I'm assuming she's facing me.

        "Well I mean, it seems like once 2010 hit or whatever, all of this horrible crappy shit started. Teen Pregnancy, Gay vs. Christianity wars, online people overexaggerating the beauty of sadness and pain, fucking selfies with starbucks, two year olds with iphones, I mean, what the fuck?" She suddenly explodes, a huge spew of words. I let out a puff of air, clearly befuzzled. Did she just sit in her room and think of the most random subject topics? Odd questions to ask me?

        "Uh....golly. Well I can probably explain a few of them." 

        "Enlighten me."

        "Teen pregnancy is probably the result of the fact that we're so perverted and shit because of subliminal messages given to us hidden in disney movies, uhhh gays are more comfortable with coming out and christians are more uptight about it? I have no clue what you mean by the beauty of pain or whatever you said. And as for the selfies you're just experiencing the wild white girl in her natural habitat. I have not seen a two year old with an iphone yet." I explained as best as I could.

She snorted, laughing quietly.

        "A better answer than I could get from my parents." This gave me an odd thought, and I turned to face what I hoped was her.

        "Are you like....not getting along with them or something? I mean, you just don't seem to think much of them." I ask. I hear a small scoff. She takes a while before responding, and when she does, she does it in a careful voice, as if she's trying not to let something slip.

        "They've done a lot for me. I can't ever repay them for it. But also, it's like they....let's say i'm in a bad situation. They're there, and they're wholeheartedly into it, which is great, they care, but they sit there and make a huge fuss over everything, freaking out and stressing me out at the same time. They're not there just saying 'hey, you dun fucked up, but we're still here.' ya know? And its like that for a lot of stuff." She says. I nod. My parents weren't like that, they cared but they knew when to back off. I could sorta tell how she felt though.

        "It makes you want to not tell them anything." 

        "Exactly!" She says. I smile, just picturing her throwing her hands up in the air.

Emilee and I have such a weird relationship. We're both so spontaneous and impulsive, we somehow know when we're going to randomly hang out around 4am or whatever. She always seems to know what mood I'm in, and I can pretty much always tell what she's doing, what facial expression she'd have, it was just....cool.

Without even thinking about it, I reached over and took her hand. I knew it was there because her arm was brushed up against mine. She was silent, and I felt her tense up.

        "I uh, you got quiet. Needed reassurance you were still there." I said, lying. I knew she was there.

But she relaxed and let out a small laugh.

        "I am."

Even though our generation was very fucked up, in a lot of ways, it was cool to have someone to experience it with.