Stop Staring At Me
Kate looked very odd with her hair down.
Of course, she looked far better then she did when it was up. Bangs highlighted her face quite well. Brooke didn’t look at her all that often - but her hair touched the small of her back like a lover, and it was a style that Brooke thought suited her.
Of course, there were more important issues at hand. Like the distressing lack of star stickers on Kate’s ceiling.
Oh, but small talk must be had, as well. Because Kate clearly couldn’t handle the pressure of silence.
“You have any pets?” Kate said, quite suddenly. She sent Brooke a glance - and Brooke couldn’t miss how her eyes lingered on the hair that was touching her shoulders.
She thought that Kate must want her hair back in a tie. It made since - she’d never looked as good with her hair down, though she didn’t keep it up for that reason. She kept it tied so she could read without hair in her face, and so she could conduct some chemistry experiments on the side.
She adjusted her sleeve a little, mostly on instinct. It had started to slip.
“No. I had a crow once, but he left the nest fairly quickly.”
Kate blinked.
“A… crow?”
“Nevermore.” Brooke supplied, quite helpfully in her opinion - and refrained from repeating that Kate had a strange obsession with reiterating things Brooke had just said.
“What… was that his name?”
“Her name. And yes.”
“That’s a good name.”
Brooke blinked.
When she glanced over, Kate was looking at her, with a tiny smile on her face. One of her arms was pressing a sticker to the ceiling - so her loose t-shirt rode up a little, and exposed one of her hips.
This interaction was rapidly reminding her why she didn’t have friends.
“Thank you, I suppose. But the point is moot by now - Nevermore is long dead, and longer gone.”
That made the smile slip off Kate’s face like sap.
Unfortunate. Smiles fit her face better then they did Brooke’s.
“I’m sorry.”
Brooke sent her another glance. This time, Kate wasn’t looking at her.
“For what?”
“Your crow.”
Brooke blinked.
“It happens. And besides - it’s not your fault. No need to apologize something you didn’t, and couldn’t’ve, had a say in.”
“Is ‘couldn’t’ve’ even a word?” Kate said. Her responses were getting quicker.
That was probably bad. Soon enough, Brooke would be the one lagging behind - and the acquaintanceship would devolve.
As always.
“Every word is made up. What defines a word is that other people understand it and translate it into understanding. If you knew what I meant, then it was a word.”
Brooke pressed another sticker to the ceiling.
The setting sunlight touched the bedframe, shy and fleeting.
Brooke wondered what it would be like, to be a sunbeam. Always moving, never holding onto anything. Unable to form bonds. Interacting with something being your only means of existence.
Truly awful.
“Thank you, sunbeams.” She said, pressing another sticker to the ceiling.
“...What?”
Oh, right. Kate.
“I thanked the sunbeams. It occurred to me that it must be awful, being a sunbeam - only existing to interact with other objects and benefit humanity. So I decided to thank them. I doubt anyone else would’ve done it.”
There was a pause.
“That’s… really sweet, Brooke.”
She glanced at Kate - who was staring at her. Brooke got the feeling that the stare was almost… expectant. Or maybe just waiting.
This was why she didn’t have friends. They always seemed to want something from her. Something she couldn’t give - or even understand.
Kate was staring at her like she wanted something - and like Brooke was supposed to know what it was.
She felt so stupid in moments like these.
“We don’t have all day to put these up, Kate.” She said, keeping her voice utterly flat.
Kate’s face fell, and Brooke knew that she had failed to deliver whatever Kate had wanted.
Like always.
I shouldn’t’ve tried to make a friend again. Didn’t I learn this lesson already? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results.
“Right. Sorry.” Kate said, pressing another glow-in-the-dark sticker to the ceiling.
No - I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t have whatever it is you want.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s understandable - attention drifts. Happens to the best of us.” Brooke said.
“...Does that mean I’m one of ‘the best of us’?”
Kate gave her another one of those can’t you tell what I want to hear? looks.
No, I fucking can’t, stop expecting me to.
“It means that you have a short attention span, Kate. I thought that was pretty self-explanatory.” Brooke said, as honestly as she could.
“Oh. Right.”
“Left.” Brooke said, on instinct.
“...What?”
“Nothing. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers to put up, Kate.”
“Okay, okay.”
There was a lull. Brooke felt distinctly like she had done something wrong - and this had been dumb of her. She should’ve left when she had the chance.
“...What do you think of me?” Kate said, suddenly but softly.
Brooke blinked.
Why was everyone else so weird.
They cared about the oddest things, asked the weirdest questions, and phrased things in the dumbest ways - and then turned around and seemed to expect her to deliver all their hopes and dreams. And then, when she couldn’t, they said she was different, weird, wrong.
She just wanted to learn Italian, and have people who didn’t stare at her like they wanted something she didn’t have.
“I think that you have an oddly bare room that needs signs of life, that you look good with your hair down, that you aren’t even a little bit normal or easy to understand and that you need to stop looking at me like that.” Brooke said - because she had no idea how to answer that, except with the truth.
Kate didn’t seem to know how to respond to that.