Saving Everest

6.

- How can you trust someone, when you could barely trust yourself?

EVEREST

Confession: The first thing I've noticed about Beverly, is the four freckles that sit on the bridge of her nose.

I immediately felt bad at how quickly I dismissed her, she looks harmless.

I watched as her big brown eyes filled with slight disappointment, and released my hand before she smiled.

"Good thing we aren't in hell."

Is she for real?

"Are you hungry?" she asked randomly.

"Uh not really," I responded, quirking my left eyebrow at her. This girl is sorta strange.

"You sure? I don't mind splitting my sandwich. Plus, smoking can't possibly be a filling lunch." She laughed quietly at her lame joke and looked down at her shoes before glancing back up at me.

"Uh—" This girl was too nice. I already feel like a jerk for being rude, and although I'm going through some stuff right now, she didn't do anything to me.

I threw the cigarette on the ground and immediately crushed it under my boot. I took a deep breath while I bit down on my lip.

"What kind of sandwich are we talking about here?"

I was actually hungrier than I realized and ended up eating my half and Beverly's. She saw me eyeing her half and so she just gave it to me.

"Turkey and avocado actually tastes way better than what I thought it would," I spoke into the silence.

"Told you," she spoke and stared at me in almost an observing way. I felt like she was the scientist and I was the specimen. I fidgeted in the oak chair and looked away because honestly, that's really weird.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?" she questioned, her nose crinkling slightly.

No one has asked me this question. Sure, I had to fill out those random questionnaires on the first day of school, so the teachers could get to know me better, but I was in the hospital on the first day of school.

Every year I would jot down those same eight letters. Mostly because that was what I liked to do, and partly because that's the answer everyone expected me to put. I've had a football glued to my hand for as long as I could remember. My dad played for this school back in his day, so I guess he wanted to keep the legacy alive.

The game was fun for a while, but the pressure of winning wasn't. My dad got a call from the coach saying that I couldn't be the quarterback this year because I missed too many practices while I was in the hospital, but I think we both knew it was because they didn't want a nutcase running the team. I could still remember how my dad looked at me. I swear I still feel his heated glare and the mist of disappointment and disgust that hung in that room.

"Uh, I like to sing," I responded as if I were asking a question. I haven't voiced out this revelation before, and not answering football for the first time is tripping me out a little bit.

Her eyes got bigger and she smiled an open-mouthed smile, her chest raised as if she had something on the tip of her tongue but couldn't get it out.

"Really? I work at this cafe on Bisklin street and we have a lot of underground artists and people that come and play their music, you should come over sometime," 

She almost reminds me of a cartoon character the way she is so animated.

I stared at her for a minute, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why I just told her that.

"Maybe I will," I spoke before I heard the dismissal bell.

What just happened?

********

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