Smoke

31: Sympathy

"Cecil," He paused again. I felt a shift in the mood, pulling down from attempted lightheartedness to seriousness. I looked at him, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Okay, well, when you first came into class," his eyes were full and his eyebrows were slightly lowered in concern as he looked up at me from his position on the couch. "I saw you, and I had a vision." His eyes skimmed past me.

"Okay." I said, my eyebrows furrowing. "So?" I asked.

"No, I... I wanted to be your friend because I knew what it felt like to lose them, to lose friends." He took a breath. His eyes locked with mine, deep and worried and blue. "I saw them leave you, when you said you were transferring." He looked down, away. My stomach curled.

"Oh." I said, my voice sounding like not my own, like some voice pulling through the air. I stilled, remembering it. My face heated.

"You saw that." I said, my voice flat and monotone. "Thanks for telling me." I said, half thinking about what I was saying. He knew how it felt when my friends abandoned me, and probably about other things too. My stomach was rolling. "But, uh, I don't really want sympathy for that or the smoke or anything." I said, speaking, only half-aware of it. He and Danny both knew what I didn't want them to. They both knew how alone I was, how alone I felt.

"No, I'm... I'm not..." He stuttered, looking at me. I wasn't looking back. "Cecil, you asked, so I..." he closed his mouth for a second, thinking, his eyebrows still furrowed in concern and worry. "I just wanted you to have a friend, because I've been through things like that, too."

"Danny knows about that stuff too. He's a mind reader. He probably knows everything about me." I blurted, stomach curling with smoke.

I half-accepted what he was saying. "He knows what I've been thinking, what I'm insecure about, what my past is." I glanced up at him, feeling distant. "I'm just sick of everyone giving me sympathy for stuff I didn't want. I don't want sympathy." I looked at Oliver, my voice getting tighter and sharper and more out of breath as I talked. "Okay?" I asked.

"Cecil, I'm..." his eyebrows lowered, twitched back to normal, twitched down again. "I just want to be your friend, okay?" He said quietly.

I was silent for a long moment, feeling the heat throughout my body as the smoke curled up, as my face reddened, as I thought through everything. The conversation we just had was catching up to me. I could feel the silence pulling through my ears, could hear it, but my mind was still catching up.

"I just don't want sympathy." I said, smoke puffing out of my mouth as I said it, my face hot.

Oliver went silent for a second also.
"That's the only vision I've had of you. I'm not trying to just give you sympathy. I want to be your friend, Cecil." He talked quietly, looking at me with reassuring eyes.

I was silent again, nodding, feeling the heat in my face and ears and neck burning through my skin, burning through the rest of my body.

"Sorry." I said, realizing I was totally freaking out in front of Oliver.

"Don't worry about it." He smiled gently. "Anyway, you're supposed to use these books to reflect on your behaviors. It's supposed to help you control your power. So you should start to really go through these and yourself. It'll help you out at the next theater rehearsal, right?" He smiled at me. I nodded, smiling back.

"Thanks, Oliver." I said.

"What are friends for?" He shrugged, smiling still, looking through the books with me.