Lessons in Life - EDITED #2

If there was anything more that I hated in the world than school, it was a school based trip. It wasn’t enough that my life was reduced to being ridiculed by rich teenagers everyday at school, confined by the classroom walls, no, they had to make me attend these stupid camps and retreats where it was made more apparent that I was an outsider.
These stupid events always made it easy for people to point out exactly how few friends I had, or exactly how different I was. It also made it hard to get away; hard to get time to myself, because every second had to be documented by someone going by the guise of “supervisor”.
Today was my lucky day, the ‘group’ of students and teachers were going off for a day of hiking and rock climbing. None of the teachers here were stupid enough to even think that I would participate, let alone co-operate. They had given me the luxury of being able to stay at the camp and pursue other recreational activities. I guess they figured I deserved a ‘treat’ seeing as I had been behaving myself. Sure, I wasn’t enjoying myself, but I wasn’t being difficult either, I at least was partaking in the majority of stupid activities and pretending that I was happy and carefree.
I watched as they walked off into the distance, climbing onto the small bus that would shuttle them to the beginning of their stupid hike.
“I guess you’re stuck with me for the day then” he shrugged as the bus drove away, taking our classmates on what was sure to be a ‘fun filled adventure’.

“I think you’re stuck with yourself” I replied, “I’m doing my art assignment.” I was doing something for art, but it wasn’t really an assignment, it was more of an extra task from the art teacher. She was one of those few people that knew me well, and she knew that I wouldn’t be participating in the rock climbing, the bush walking or any of the mundane activities provided, so she set me her own task. I was to draw three landscapes, and then two animals, the tricky part was that they all had to be part of an interconnecting story. For example, I could draw the campsite, the lake, and the mountains, a butterfly and a possum. The possum would routinely steal food from the campsite and drink from the lake, the tree it called home was on the mountain and the butterfly was its best friend, well something to that effect anyway.

“Is the idea of spending the day with me really that horrible?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yes” I replied. “It really is.”

“Why?” he pressed, the smile a little more prominent. He seemed to be getting a kick out of this torment.

“Because we have absolutely nothing in common, you hang out with assholes, you enjoy sports and I don’t like you” I replied picking up my bag.

“You don’t know me” he said taking the bag off me, a chuckle coating his comment.

“What’s there to know?” I asked. “You play sports, you’re a straight A student, you’re father is a top notch lawyer, you’re an only child, you’re mother is a full-time stay at home mum, you have a dog you take for a run every night, you’ve applied for all of the ivy league colleges, Harvard first because it is where your dad went, and you don’t date because it ‘get’s in the way of your sport’. Was that an accurate guess?”

“Leave out the dating and the dog part and you’re halfway” he smiled at me. “I don’t have a dog because my mother is allergic, my mother is actually a writer, my dad went to Yale, and I have an older sister.”

“How wonderful” I replied, sarcasm dripping from each word. I wasn’t actually fishing for his life story; I more just wanted him to go away. “Can I please have my bag back?”

“Well, Beth, I can’t give it to you because that would mean that you wouldn’t take me where ever you were going, and I so desperately want to come.” His smile was faultless. “Besides, I’d prefer to be verbally barraged by you all day then sit here alone and bored.”

“That might make more sense in theory” I said attempting to grab my bag off him, “but in practise it might not go so well.”

“Why is that?” he asked, his confident smile returning.

“Because on what planet is it exactly that we would get along?” I asked. “Since when has someone like you ever wanted to ‘hang out’ with someone like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, now even more amused than before.

“Oh spare me the questions, and don’t make me point out the differences between us, you know exactly what they are” I replied, my eyes narrowing at him.

“What if I don’t care about all of that?” he asked.

“Then I would say that you’re lying. What do you expect? We spend the day together, have deep and meaningful conversations and then tomorrow pretend it never happened?” I asked. “I seriously think you should stop pretending that the world is perfect and that I am about to let you screw me over.”

“What makes you think I am out to get you?” he asked me sincerely confused.

“Because what else could you possibly want from me?” I asked, abandoning my bag and beginning to walk away. “What else is it that I could possibly offer you? It’s not like I am someone you would usually hang out with.”

“What does it matter if you are or aren’t?” he asked. “You barely even know me, so you don’t know who I’d usually even associate with?”

“What is it that you want from me?” I asked him again, completely tired of playing his games.
“Do you want me to say that the life you lead is fine, it’s okay, I give you my approval. I get it; you just want to use me to make your life seem better. Or you want to hear out all my little pathetic stories so you can laugh about it with your friends?”

“What makes you think I am that type of person?” he asked me, falling into step beside me, my bag firmly secured on his shoulder. “I promise you Beth, I am not out to get you. I simply just want to be a friend.”
I didn’t bother replying, I had no words for him. My mind was about to explode from the obscurity of this entire situation and the warning sirens that were going along with it. Instead of putting my foot down and making him leave, I just let it be. I ignored everything going on in my head and just let it all be.
“So why aren’t you going rock climbing today?” he asked, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over us.

“Do I look like I’d want to be rock climbing with a bunch of people who hate me?” I asked him in return. “Someone might get a brilliant idea and cut the cord or something.”

“No one would do that” he replied.

“Why aren’t you partaking in the group festivities today?” I asked him, jumping from the topic of me. “After all, you are the sporting type, or so you pretend.”

“I have to rest my shoulder, doctor’s orders” he replied. “So that means no real ‘challenging’ physical activity.”

“How unfortunate” I replied in mock sympathy.

“So you don’t like sport” he laughed. “I get it.”

“No, sport does not like me” I replied. “Co-ordination does not like me.” I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him.

“What?” he asked me after a few moments of silence.

“Can I have my bag?” I asked him in return. “I want to get out my blanket to sit on.”

“You’re ridiculous” he laughed.

“Get used to it” I snapped, snatching the bag out of his outstretched hand.

*****

“So how was the camp?” asked my art teacher. She was slightly eccentric, a complete oddball and nothing like any other teacher I had ever had in the past. She was everything that this school was not, and everything that I loved. She was one of my good friends, not a best friend like two teenagers, more of a good mentor and friend whenever I needed someone to talk to.