Smoke

29: Analyzing

I looked up at him.

"The... Oh, well, with the class it's like analyzing the books, but you're analyzing yourself too." He said slowly, thinking through his words to describe the class. He was leaning into the couch, body relaxed but with a stiff voice. "So it can get a bit personal, I think, if you're doing it right. Like, one of my books, it was about, uh," He smiled quickly, uncomfortably, and I met his eyes.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable." I said softly, wanting information but not if he started feeling awkward with me knowing it.

"No, that's," He rolled his eyes, smiling slightly, chuckling. He was moving a lot, shifting, turning his head, nervous, but then he stilled. "It was about helping out people. Being more helpful." He glanced at me.

"Oh." I smiled, then it faded and I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling a pit in my stomach, a block in my throat. "So, uh," I started, quiet. I stopped talking momentarily, and my face heated. "Is that why you're here?" I asked him, not looking up.

"Well, I wanted to help you out. These books are just about stuff you need to improve in your life to develop, to be happier." He was looking at me, eyes locked on mine while I was staring down, away.

If he just wanted to help people to better himself, that's probably all he cared about, was bettering himself. He had been very helpful to me, but that could've all just been him following his reading assignment for Skill Management.

I was silent and he was still looking at me.
"So what am I supposed to do with them?" I asked, my voice getting sharper. I was still looking down, only half-listening to what he was saying.

"You read them, analyze them for themes like any other book, and then try to really see if those are things you need to improve about yourself. I don't know how she does it, but Elinora really knows how to pick books that help us. Maybe it's because of her empathic abilities, that's probably it." He was nodding to himself, looking away from me, thinking. My stomach curled with my thoughts and the remembrance of all of the books she'd chosen for me, all of the themes that seemed dumb and overused. My mind kept on repeating thoughts, nervous and confused.