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Good Will Hunting
“Wow. Haircut, no lip piercings. What’d you do, go on a job interview?” Sarah was already sitting at her seat when Brendan walked into biology class just seconds before the bell rang.
“Passport photos.”
“Conformity. Now there’s a switch. Not a big fan of profiling?”
“Not a big fan of being frisked.”
Sarah smiled. “I’ll remember that.”
Brendan felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Mr. Taylor called the class to attention, so he put his head down and opened his book. Miss goody two shoes had made him blush. He started thinking about the dream again, and that unnerving, never-ending kiss. He tried to shake his head clear, but had to keep focusing elsewhere to keep himself distracted.
As Mr. Taylor handed back the tests, he explained that this test was one of the harder ones he’d given, and as such it was a pretty good predictor of how they’d do on the actual AP Exam. Brendan’s A minus was about what he figured, but he watched Sarah’s face fall as she looked at a big fat “D”. When class finally ended she walked out without even looking at him. He finally caught up with her at her locker.
"Hey there! Where’ve you been hiding yourself?"
“I’m not in the mood, Brendan.”
“Not in the mood for what?”
“Jokes. Small talk. Look, I have to go. I have to study.”
He put his arm on one of the lockers to block her path. “Why don’t you let me help you? After school today?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Brendan. I’m never going to pass this exam and we both know it.”
“You lose nothing by trying; everything by giving up. At least try.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I’ve been trying. I study all the time. It just doesn’t make sense to me. Then I get to the test and I just freeze up. All the numbers and formulas and everything gets confused in my brain and I can’t sort them out, and then I just guess.”
He swallowed hard, ignoring her tears, and pointed at her with authority. “Starbucks. After school. I think you know the one.” He turned and walked away, hoping she’d be there, then feeling guilty for hoping. She was right. None of it made sense.
As he waited in a small leather chair in the corner, Brendan wondered if she’d show, but eventually she walked in and the door banged against the frame as it shut. A seedy looking guy in the opposite corner noticed her too. Brendan stood and offered her the chair he’d been sitting in. He kept one eye trained on the other guy. She set her books down with a thud, prompting more stares from several directions.
“What are you, trying out for a Broadway musical?”
Sarah scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leaned forward and spoke in lower tones. “Do you always make such a grand, “hey, notice me!” entrance or what?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Forget it. Do you want some coffee?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”
“Ok then, let’s get to work.”
An hour later most of the clientele had turned over, but the guy in the corner remained. Sarah stretched, popping her neck from side to side. “My brain is fried. Can we talk about something else for a while?”
“Sure. Let’s talk about why you keep changing your hair color.” He smiled, trying to make her at ease, but she looked down, obviously uncomfortable.
“Yeah, well–I’m just experimenting. Trying to figure out who the real me is.”
“Any luck so far?”
"Funny, Brendan. Very funny. Go ahead and judge me. At least I’m trying to be happy." She reached down and pulled his sleeve up ever so slightly, just enough to reveal his latest endeavors. "You, on the other hand, are obviously miserable."
Her bravado surprised him, and her touch was warm. He found himself watching her mouth. “I’m not miserable. I’m going to Europe.”
“Hence the passport photos.”
“Exactly.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Both I hope.”
“I was just kidding. What kind of business?”
“The top secret kind. If I tell you, I’ll definitely have to kill you.”
She was staring at him and it was getting awkward.
“What?!”
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just, I think it’s twice now I’ve gotten a chance to spend time with you when you’re not stoned. You’re really very charming when you want to be. You’d make a great 007. Especially now that I can see your ears!”
He felt the sides of his head in exaggerated self-consciousness. “I never did like my ears.”
Sarah clamped one hand over her mouth, giggling. “It’s just weird. I mean, seeing you clean, piercing-free and sober all at once is a little hard to absorb. Don’t get me wrong–I definitely like it better than ‘angry boy’.”
"Well maybe I have a lot to be angry about."
"Maybe we all do."
"Maybe."
"And maybe we should all start smoking pot and cutting our arms to shreds. That’ll show ‘em."
The cute little girl giggle was gone, and it caught him off guard. Her eyes were deep, like looking into a well, and he saw himself reflected there on her soul, etched like a negative that only showed part of the picture.
Tears welled up in her eyes and for the second time that day, it speared him. He sat, nearly mesmerized by the rawness of it all. It didn’t seem to matter to her one bit that they were in the middle of Starbucks and people might see her crying. She was definitely not a native.
The guy in the corner was watching them with interest and a keen sense of protection rose up in him. He touched her on the arm and spoke quietly.
"You have to stop that."
"What? Why?"
His eyes glanced toward the corner and then landed back on her face. "You can’t be vulnerable like that in public. You’ll get yourself in a mess of trouble."
The guy was still watching and Brendan grew more uncomfortable by the second. "Do you trust me?"
"No, should I?"
"I need you to trust me for a few minutes. Just play along."
Before she could say another word Brendan grabbed his backpack and her books and pulled her up out of her seat. He kissed her cheek and then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, speaking louder than he needed to.
"Come on baby, I said I was sorry! Let’s just go home. I promise I’ll make it up to you."
Sarah put her eyes down and followed his lead. She hooked her arm around his waist and laid her head on his chest, allowing him to lead her out the door and along the wide-windowed storefront.
They stayed arm in arm until they were well around the corner and his heart came racing through his thin t-shirt. "I’m sorry about that."
"Don’t be."
He stole a glance at the top of her head.
"What happened in there anyway? Why’d you lead me out like that?"
"You never saw the guy in the corner, did you?"
"What guy? There must have been fifty people in there."
Brendan shook his head. "That’s what I thought."
"What?"
"You don’t know what to look for. It’s why you’re afraid."
She tipped her head up toward him. Those eyes again. He could feel her breath on his chin and he started to get nervous. The only person he’d ever been this close to was Tess. It felt strangely like betrayal and so he released her, rather abruptly.
"What do you mean? What’s happening?"
He stopped walking and put his back up against a wall, raking his fingers through what used to be a dark mass of curls. He blew out a deep breath and tried to clear Tess’s face from his mind.
“Are you ok? What’s wrong?”
He started to shake on the inside. He wanted a joint and had the bag in his coat, but he couldn’t walk away from her. Not right now. "You told me once that you’re always afraid."
"Yeah, so?"
He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. "I’m going to teach you some things. Come on." He put his arm back around her and they started walking again. It surprised him how good it felt to have her under him like that, like an old-time warrior who could cover her with his shield.
"Do we have to walk like this?"
"No, but it’s better if we do. This way it looks like we’re in our own little world of private jokes. I promise I won’t kiss you again though. That was just for effect."
"Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious! Normally I would’ve asked first.”
“You would’ve
asked
first.”
“That’s what I said, yes.”
She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
Brendan told her what it was about the guy that made him nervous. They walked and talked and he pointed out the kind of people he would watch out for and why. Then he showed her those he wouldn’t worry too much about. Often they were the opposite of how she would have chosen.
"That’s why you’re afraid, Sarah. You’re afraid of everyone, all the time, and you don’t need to be. You just need to train yourself to be alert and watch for the signs."
He taught her about putting on a ‘game face’ when she walked alone and how the crappy people preyed on those that looked weak and afraid, especially women.
"Are we back to evolution again? Survival of the fittest?"
He laughed. "Something like that."
Sarah got more of an education in that hour-long walk than in the whole three years she’d lived in Manhattan. When they ended up near her apartment building she took her arm out from around his waist.
Brendan let go of her shoulders. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing." She pointed up at the building. "This is me. Can I have my biology book?"
He looked up and then scanned the streets to figure out exactly where they were. "This is where you live?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Um…I don’t know. It’s just kind of funny that we happened to end up right at the door to your building, don’t you think?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. They’d been talking and laughing for the last hour and suddenly he was at a loss for words.
Sarah laughed. "Weird, huh? My friend Jillian wouldn’t say it was weird. She says everything happens for a reason. Kind of like karma I guess, only God stuff."
They were both silent for a minute, then ended up trying to talk at the same time. Brendan stopped and let her go first.
"I guess I’d better go in. My parents like us together for dinner if possible."
Brendan thought she was joking, but her face said otherwise. "Are you serious? Your family eats dinner together?"
Sarah nodded. "More often than not, yeah."
He blinked a few times. "Any other ancient practices you guys follow? Foot binding? Arranged marriages?”
“Ha ha.”
“You have brothers and sisters?"
"Yes. No. Well, I had a brother, but he died."
Brendan’s head shot up. "Really? When?"
"Three years ago."
"What happened?"
"He had cancer. That was why we moved here. To get him the best treatments."
Suddenly the dog thing made more sense. "Wow. I’m sorry to hear that."
"Thanks. He was a great kid. He was very brave, even up to the end."
"What was his name?"
"Christopher."
Brendan didn’t know what else to say.
"I’d better go in."
"Ok. See you later." He started to walk away.
"Brendan?"
He turned slightly. "Yeah?"
“I still need my books.”
“Oh! Right. Sorry.” He slid her stuff out of his backpack and handed it to her. He’d only gotten a few more steps before she called his name again. He turned around and kept walking backwards. "Yeah?"
"Thanks. For everything."
"No problem." He smiled and pulled one hand out of its pocket long enough to wave before she disappeared inside.
After Brendan left Sarah at her building, he walked down the street talking to himself. He made a mental note of the sizes and distinctions of the buildings on that side before rounding the corner. They actually lived on opposite sides of the same block. What were the odds? Granted, city blocks were large, but still, she said she’d watched a guy almost jump off his penthouse balcony. Was she watching him at night? Not possible. It was just too weird to be true.
He went home and was headed straight for his room when his mom stopped him.
“Hey there! Where’s the fire?”
He tried to keep walking and blow her off. “No fire, I’m just–I gotta go work on something.”
“Well, come in here for a minute. I want to talk to you.” She was sitting on the couch sipping a rather large snifter of thick brown liquid. It was early yet. She was probably just getting started.
Brendan sighed and stuffed one hand in his pocket, fingering the joint and calming at the thought that it wouldn’t be long. He sat down on the edge of one of the opposite couches. “What’s up?”
“You look different.”
“Yeah. I uh–I cut my hair.”
“Well, yes it looks nice. I’ve always liked you with short hair. But that’s not what I mean.”
“What
do
you mean?” He hadn’t lit the joint yet, so that couldn’t be it.
“I don’t know. There’s just something different about you. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Nope. Same old me.” Brendan sat tapping his fingers on his jeans. “Is there something specific you needed to talk to me about?”
“I was out shopping a little while ago.”
Brendan looked sideways in the direction of his room. He needed to go look for Sarah’s building. He needed to calm down. He needed to be able to light that joint. “Yeah? And this is news why?”
“Very funny Brendan. No–I saw you.”
His head twisted back toward her. “You saw me? You saw me what?”
“I saw you with a girl.”
So
that’s
what this was about. She had to pick now to act like a mother? “Oh! Right. That’s Sarah. She’s just a friend.”
“Do you always walk arm and arm with your friends? You two looked pretty intimate.”
He shook his head in protest. “It’s not like that. I was just showing her around.”
“Brendan. I may be old, but I’m not dead. It was written all over your face.”
“What? No!”
Ginny smiled triumphantly. “Ok. Whatever you say.”