27
Iwent to bed that night still simmering with outrage, throwing punches at my pillow to smooth it out and to relieve some of my anger. It hadn’t eased by the next morning, as I blinked my eyes open only to find that tightness in my chest still there.
I couldn’t believe Seth had taken my deepest insecurities and thrown them back at me. Had he done it on purpose, intending to needle me? Or had it simply slipped out? It didn’t make it better, either way.
I stomped around the apartment as I got ready for the day. My temper had me throwing my clothes to the floor with frustration and viciously running a comb through my hair until it hurt, every movement jerky and full of ire.
So maybe I wasn’t some rich and famous rock star or model or whatever. I didn’t have legions of fans clamoring for my attention. Did that mean my life was less important than people like them?
I fumed the whole way to school, all through my classes and in the library as I studied. I’d barely paid attention to what the professors had been saying. I hoped everything they covered was also in the textbook.
Even though he was surrounded by celebrities, Seth told me it didn’t matter if I was a regular, normal person. Had he meant anything he’d said? Did he secretly look down on me? After all, there he was, always off living this amazing life. How could I compare with that?
Hunching over my books, I gripped my highlighter with such force the plastic squeaked in my hand as I realized where my thoughts were heading.
Was it happening again?
Was I starting to resent Seth, just like I had with Everly when I’d been younger? Was that adolescent angst rearing its head? Was I really still so immature, after all these years?
Thoughts just like those tumbled over in my head for days, until the afternoon I was supposed to volunteer at the youth center.
Dread filled my chest as I walked into the building, wondering if I was going to run into Seth. I didn’t know his volunteer schedule.
Luckily, I only saw Jessie as she waved to me in greeting on my way to the study room.
The number of students was smaller and a few years older than my usual bunch. There was a tense mood as I walked into the room.
“Oh good, you’re here,” the volunteer in the room said. “My shift is over so I’ll turn it over to you. The kids are all working on essays, so they’re all kind of stressed.” She clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
She left, leaving me on my own for this one. I was hit with a different kind of dread. Would I be able to handle this all by myself with no backup?
“Can you help me?” one of the kids asked. “My teacher says I need to write a five paragraph essay but I still don’t really understand.”
The girl’s eyes were wide and hopeful as she stared up at me from the table.
“Of course,” I told her.
I took a free seat next to her and proceeded to explain in as simple words as I could. At first her face was scrunched up in a confused frown, but as I continued, the confusion gave way to understanding, until eventually her eyes lit up with excitement.
“I think I get it now!” she exclaimed.
“It’s not too hard when you break it all down, is it?” I told her.
“It’s easy,” she said. “I don’t know why my teacher didn’t say it that way. I’m gonna try writing something now. Will you look it over when I’m done?”
“Of course,” I replied with an encouraging smile.
“How do I come up with a hypothesis?” called a voice from the other side of the room as they waved their hand wildly.
I spent the rest of the afternoon answering questions and looking over work. By the time the kids had to leave, the frustration and strained atmosphere had changed to something lighter, more confident.
I was overtaken with a sense of pride, a sense of accomplishment. These kids had come to me for help, and I’d been able to give it to them. They’d been relatively quiet and polite, listening to me when I kindly reminded them to keep things to a dull roar.
Knowing I’d been able to help a classroom full of tweens was satisfying in a way that few other things were.
My good mood lasted almost all evening as I returned home and opened my books to try and study some more. I was in the middle of reviewing the few notes I’d been able to take in class when my phone pinged. I flipped it over to see a series of texts from Seth. My stomach sunk.
Watching over the kids had distracted me from stressing about what had gone down between the two of us.
