A Nice Place

As we walked down the hallway I had to temper my desire to rush forward, instead doing my best to match her pace. Admittedly I think I was still slightly faster. I was just kind of eager to get out of there, y’know? As our footsteps clacked along the tiled floors, I could see that the two of us weren’t the only students stepping out for lunch. We’d occasionally brush past others talking amongst themselves amid the off-white walls and brown metal doors. I clung close to the windows overlooking the outside, attempting to maintain a wide distance without making it too obvious that was what I was doing.

“Tch,” she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I forgot to tell them about my eyes… I always forget the eyes.” She raised a hand to her face, covering the eyes in question. Sweeping her hand up to brush through her hair, she stopped to look at me. “It’s too late to go back and tell them right? I kind of made a big show out of that exit, so…” she trailed off as though waiting for my answer. I obliged.

“Oh, um. I think it’s fine as is. I mean, when you were staring at them I’m sure they all saw your eyes.” I feel like that’s not the answer she wanted.

“Hah. Yeah.”

“…If you want to go back though, we could do that.”

“Nah. No point in doing that right now. We’ll be back after lunch.” She set her hands down and looked out towards the window. “Besides, I’d like to see this place you wanted to show me.”

“Ah. Right. Yeah. Uh. Well, we should probably change back into our outdoor shoes first so let’s head to the lockers.”

“Rin. I’m new here so I might be wrong, but I think those were in the other direction.”

“…”

“Rin?”

“…We can still get to them from here. It just takes longer.”

“There’s no place is there?”

“There is no place.” I wrung my hands together in a losing bid to assuage my nerves. “But there could be a place! It’s a big school, y’know?” Although she’d now turned back to me, my eyes followed her previous path out the window.

Oh!

“Evi, I think there are some benches over by the sports ground so we could check that out. And then, like, if that’s nice then that could retroactively become the nice spot I wanted to show you.”

“Ah.” She seemed to be mulling it over. “Sounds good.”

As we doubled back to change our shoes, I tried to explain myself a little.

“I do want to show you someplace nice, by the way. I suppose the issue is that I had not preselected a location.” I wagged my head a bit. “Also I kind of wanted an excuse to leave our classroom. I uh, don’t really deal with attention very well. Like at all. In any capacity.”

“So I didn’t help things then.” It was a question, but she said it like a statement. Resigned and slightly melancholy, as though she were used to this outcome. I gripped the straps of my backpack to steady myself.

“Well, I thought it was really cool Evi.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, cool! You were all, confident and stuff. Powerful! If that makes sense?”

She laughed. “Coming from you? Sure, that makes sense.”

“I’m not entirely sure how to interpret that, but okay!”

“In a good way, please.”

“Sure thing!” I gave a small salute.

Evi and I hurried over to the cream-colored metal boxes that held our shoes and completed the switch. We then made our way out. Past the bright, recessed lights dotting the ceiling, past the brown wall-mounted bulletin boards, and finally through the double doors to the outside.

“Hey, so, the spot I saw was over there.” I nodded over at my chosen locale. Just slightly beyond the sports grounds there was a large tree casting shade over a small metal bench. “Is that okay?”

“Seems nice.”

“Nice.”

We walked over and sat down. Of course, I took my backpack off before sitting. I landed on the right side further in the shade, and she chose the left, closer to the sunlight. Unzipping our bags, we took out our respective lunches.

“I don’t usually eat outside,” I told her, still wanting to clarify this situation.

“Yeah?” A bemused query.

“Yeah. Usually I stay inside.”

“Sure, yes. The other one out of those two options,” she said, gesturing at nothing.

“No, well, yeah. I mean. You know what I mean. I typically just eat in class, is all.” I squirmed. “Like I don’t talk to anyone, or eat outside with people, I just come to school -attract as little attention as possible- and then leave.”

I tried to look at her. I couldn’t.

“That’s all I’m saying,” I mumbled as I reached for my bento box.

There was quiet for a moment. The dappled sunlight that shone through the tree’s green leaves felt warm, diffused though it was. The muffled sounds of distant activity echoed over to us. Voices and laughter and movement.

“Hey. So. Rin. Back in class… they called you something.”

“Haha. Yeah.” I tensed up.

“Ghost Girl?” The question was tentative. Careful.

“Haha. Yeah.”

“…”

“It’s uh, it’s dumb. It’s just an old nickname I have that somehow stuck around.” I shrugged dismissively.

“But it’s not a nice nickname, right?”

“…Right.” My shoulders went slack. I looked up towards the tree leaves above us. I heard the rustle of her clothing as she adjusted her arms, felt the movement as she shuffled slightly on the bench seat. The next words out of her mouth didn’t even sound like they were directed at me. Just an idle thought placed out into the open. I responded in kind.

“People can be cruel.”

“...But they don’t have to be...”

“And that’s the saddest part.” 

She completed our thought.

We sat in the silence. Until she decided to break it.

“Cruelty is a choice.” Conviction and bitterness, mixed up in her sound.

A pause.

“Which means, kindness is also a choice.” I offered.

I could feel her shift to look at me.

“Rin, are you actually this positive right now or are you just being a contrarian?”

“I would like to say that I’m not a contrarian, but that probably wouldn’t help my case. So, a little of column A and a little of column B.” I looked up from my bag to face her. “I’m not a positive person, generally. Almost at all, honestly. But I feel like I should try to be one.”

“That’s… good. Yeah.” She grinned.

“I mean I’m not very successful at trying. And also, it’s important to be able to recognize your own feelings and not simply pretend they don’t exist, so there’s a balancing act there, when it comes to positivity, but um—”

“Please learn to take a compliment.” By the tone of her voice, that playful exasperation was also maybe slightly real exasperation.

“Right. Thank you. Sorry.”