| Jesse sat nestled in an apple tree, her thoughts far away as her eyes glazed over. She thought about Adam, and was momentarily ashamed at the mean words that had come out of her mouth a little while ago. Adam didn't deserve that line about his parents. Adam's parents didn't even care about him. Only that he be perfect. Jesse sighed and shifted on the tree branch. She was almost on the ground because the branch was so low. But she didn't mind. Her thoughts weren't on that. Again, she thought back to the night her parents had died. Mom and Dad had been coming home from the mall. It was a stormy, rainy night, but Jesse figured her parents thought it'd be better for them to come home than wait out the storm, which might last a day or more. But ... a car had lost control of its brakes. At least, that was what Jesse had heard the police say. The car had lost control, had skidded - and crashed into her parents' car. From what Jesse heard, it had been off to the side of the road, so there was no build-up of traffic. But her parents had died. And the owner of the other car got off with a minor concussion and some bruises. It was so - it was so - it was so what? It was so ... unfair! Jesse had to listen to Grandma say to relatives on the phone over and over in low tones that her parents probably would have made it if they'd had their seatbelts on. Grandma must have thought Jesse couldn't hear. Well, she wasn't deaf. And she'd heard. It was ... confusing, to say the least, without Mom and Dad. They'd been her best friends. People thought her 'odd'. Jesse knew that. But her parents didn't think she was odd. They thought she was the best thing that ever happened to them - and told her so many times. But - but ... they were gone. Jesse felt a little lost. Where would she go from here? She swung her feet a little and shivered. The fog was cold. A tree's branches to her left rustled a little, and out stepped Adam. He came and sat down on the branch beside Jesse. They sat in silence for a minute, both gathering their thoughts, both unsure what to say. "I'm sorry," Adam said finally. Jesse flushed. "I'm sorry, too. We were both pretty mean." Anyone else would have answered, 'No, it was all my fault. I was the one who was wrong'. But Adam didn't. He didn't need to say that. Not to his best friend. "Am I ... odd?" Jesse asked after a minute. Adam grinned in the semi-darkness. "Do you really want to know?" "Well ... yes." "Then, no. You're not. You're just different." Jesse thought for a moment. "Everyone thinks I'm odd." Adam sighed. "Jess, we've been over this a million times. Never mind what everybody else thinks. They don't know who you really are ... And it doesn't help you don't try to make friends," he admitted. Jesse shrugged, unoffended. "Why should I?" "Because ... because ..." Adam struggled with this question. He supposed it was a rheotrical question, but he'd always been raised to think he must try to be friendly so he could have friends. And he always made friends without even trying to. He didn't really know why having friends was so important. It just was. "Because ... it makes you normal." "I'm already not normal," Jesse reminded him. "Ye-es, but if you want people to not think you're 'odd', you've gotta be friendly. Then people will be friends with you." "I want friends," Jesse sighed, "but none of the people I know - excepting you, of course - seem real. I want real friends." "You're right," Adam admitted. "Most of them just talk about football. Actually, the girls talk about the mall and the guys talk about football. And basketball. But they never talk about anything else. Kind of weird, I guess. I never thought about it." "I always have," Jesse replied in an indifferent tone of voice. "I remember thinking none of them were interesting." "Yeah ... until I really got to know you, I thought you were strange." "I thought you would be just like them," Jesse didn't hesitate to answer back. "You always seemed like it." "Am I?" Jesse stared at him. "No. Of course not. You're the only one who ... thinks. You're the only one who understands me." "I wonder why that is," Adam teased. "Oh, be quiet." Jesse couldn't help smiling. "I thought I was just like them, too," he admitted a few minutes later. Silence had again taken over the conversation. "Maybe because your parents -" Adam's hands clenched into fists and Jesse ignored him, "maybe that's because your parents wanted you to think that. Look at you. You look just like kids these days." Silence. Then, "I do?" " 'Course. You've got a nice outfit on, your hair is very neat - and newly cut -, and you've got that kind of smile on your face." "What smile?" Jesse looked over Adam's face for a minute. Whatever smile had been there was gone, but she looked at his face anyway. "A smile that says you don't mean to smile, you just are because you know you have to. A fake, nice smile." "Well, gee, thanks," Adam grumbled. Jesse laughed. "But you don't think like them. You think like ..." "You. Which is why I understand you." Jesse laughed and stood up to stretch. "C'mon," she reminded Adam, "time for dinner. Grandma probably already called your mom to tell her you'd be staying over until eight." "Your grandma doesn't miss a trick," Adam answered admiringly. Jesse started walking towards the back door. "Yeah," she called back, "and she won't miss it if we don't wash our hands!" Adam laughed and hurried after her.
Dinner was quiet, as usual. Grandma talked to Adam a minute, asking him how his parents were, how his school work was going, and they talked for a few minutes. But Jesse's grandma wasn't a talkative person. She liked her peace. And so, after a little while, there was quiet at the table as the three just ate. |