The Optimist

fourteen

Jacob

. . .

"What the hell is he doing here?" Chres yells. I laugh and shush him immediatly. I fumble with the window locks and with Chresanto's help, I push the window out to get a better view of Nathan.

Nathan's legs look like they can't breathe due to the skinny jeans and he can barely yell loud enough. He waddles over to us and points to the door. "I'm coming in!" He yells and disappears under my room balcony right above the door. 

I hear my Mom's voice downstairs shout a "Who is it?" and from the sound of a screech of a door, I know she let him in. I grin and head downstairs to greet Nathan with Chres hot on my tail. I slip my fingers through his as we exchange hello's before Chres and him hug.

Awkward.

"Can we go upstairs and discuss this?" My parent's gaze burn in his back as he mumbles the hushed whisper. I give them a curious glare, and my Dad nods once.

"Thanks." I smile and Mom returns it. Then all three of us shuffle up the stairs and into my room. I close the door lightly and turn around to see Nathan on Chresanto's lap. They're sitting on my bed and I walk to the red round carpet, plopping down Indian style in the middle of the plush-like material.

I nod toward Nathan. "Spill it."

"All I can say is, Nadia needs your help." His face flushes with worry and it goes slightly pale as he stands up from Chresanto's lap. My eyebrows burrow together. Nadia? Needs my help?

"With what?" My curiosity digs deep and pushes me back. Everything I'm set to do now will be held back until I can solve Nadia's problem. I must know what's wrong.

"I didn't know this, but.." He trails off and I wave my hand in a circular motion to tell him to go on. "She's failing school. Miserably." He adds. My heart almsot stops.

"I snooped in her room while she was in the shower and her report card was on her dresser. Of course, being the naughty brother I am," he winks, "I looked at them. And her avergae grade is a D. Her highest grade is a B, but that's in her EC class that's not important. You, Jacob, are the only one you can help her, presumably because you're the only person she actualy talks too. Even though that grudge is still kind of strong between our parents, she won't listen to them." i smile a bit a that.

"Let me guess, she'll just read her life away, huh?" Chresanto butts in. Nathan scoffs playfully and I glare at him with a raised brow. "Shut up." Nathan scolds with a grin. He silences, but I think that sentence is still rolling his tlongue with genuine curiousity.

Of course Nadia won't actually read her life away. If I were to date her, we'd be at all the social events. I'll let her bring her books too. Hehe.

"How can I help her with my parents hot on her back about the grudge?" I ask.

"Our parents are letting it die, slowly but surely. They're too old to be hating mushing something stupid." Nathan says. I just nod, but I'm actually interested in this problem. 

"But they still haven't given it up, yet," Chresanto replies. He's right, unfortunately.

"I'll talk to her. Or, I'll try." I conclude, remembering when she left after Jaxton came to Crowne to tell me about his sister Faye's death. Her suicide. I think she thought that I was ignoring her, but Jaxton needed help coping with her loss and I was there.

"Thanks." Nathan says before we battle in a game of Call Of Duty.

. . .

"Just admit it." I ditch my table in the middle of the social room to try and talk to Nadia.

"Admit what?" I'm slightly shocked and delighted to see her reply, and I'm sure she notices. She's reading yet another book in her hand as we speak. She bites into an apple before continuing to read, not even adknowledging my presence.

"You're failing." I drop the news all at once. She freezes and slowly looks up form her book, adjusting her glasses on her face as she stares at me like I just murdered someone.

"How do you know about my grades?" She pushes back in her chair, dumbfounded. Her mood changes to nonchakant and carefree also shifted mine. Her books lie on the table and she dwait for me to tell her who spilled the beans.

"Someone really close to me. And you." I beat around the bush. She smiles and shrugs cheerfully.

"That's fine. Sure I'm failing, but it's just one class." She lies. "I  know it was Nathan, I just wanted to see if my favorite little optimist would admit it, though." She winks. Oh.

"I dd somewhat." I do my best to defend myself, knowing she has the better end. "I gave a hint." I add for backup, raising my arms in defense.

"Why does it matter if I'm failing, anyway? I could just live my life with no school and an abundance of books and be happy that way. So it won't matter." She shrugs, smiliing at her version of ectasy. Books and failing classes are al she's about.

"I can help you." I offer.

"You can." She says. "Forget the grudge!" 

"I wish I could, but it's so tight on my parents that  they can't breath in new air of forgiveness." I tell her. They won't let it up. 

"Probably on my parents' death bed, they still won't let it up." We share a laugh. "It's stupid." She says.

I agree. Another story Mom told me was about a grudge over thirteen cent. Thirteen cent! How pitiful?

"So, meet me at Crowne's again after school? If you give me another chance, I promise you I won't leave you this time. Especially for Jaxton.'' I assure. The bell rings and a mush of students exit the cafeteria. I smile at her as she packs up.

I can see as she's packing that she's thinking and when all the books are in her arm, she grins a bit. "Sure." And with that, she's gone.

So I exit the cafteria, stopping occasionally in the hallway to adknowlege students and help others with a few problems from Mr. Canaburr. I pass Nadia sitting on a ledge, reading and stop, passing the mob of students.

"What are you doing?" I ask as soon as I reach her. "You need to be in class."

She shrugs, fiddling with the bookmark in between her fingers.. "So do you." I grin and snatch the book from her hand, and before she can respond, Im off to class. I ignore her pleads to bring the book back. She needs help and I'll help her.

One book at a time.