Genuine

The boy who held the mirror smiled with a sort of grin that held one's attention entirely. It was genuine and few things in this world are. I looked with disbelief at the mirror he was holding. More accurately at what was in it. A girl with hopes and dreams. She was beautiful and vaguely reminded me of a time long ago, one thought to be long past. "This is who you could be," he said with that sort of grin that one felt could be trusted.

"How can we free you...?" Dalen had been pondering this question as he sat with me at lunch. I was still in awe of how his presence by me had managed to deflect the herd of bullies. I couldn't remember the last time I was able to taste the cafeteria's bland desserts. 

In truth 'freedom' sounded like a foreign concept or the wrong word. Did children really need to be 'freed' from their parents as if they were slaves? 

I kept quiet while he mumbled to himself. He couldn't be much older than me yet he acted like he was. What had happened? He knew my story but I had never asked for his. A sinking feeling over came me as I knew it was unlikely I'd get a chance soon. If I came home late again the punishment would be worse. I was grounded. A sixteen year old. Grounded for being home at eight.

"Cyndi, are you listening?" I wasn't and didn't answer even as he raised an accusing eyebrow, "I was asking you if Child Services would be a good choice."

I looked at him shocked. Child Services? That would take me from here and put me in a home. The kind horror stories are made from. I had plenty of bruises under my sleeves to prove that my parents were unfit but being juggled house to house until someone wanted to adopt me sounded like a world I didn't want to live in. As long as I stay low and keep to my room I can avoid abuse on most occasions. 

"It would be an anonymous caller. I could have my mom call and she could say that she noticed some bruises and give them an address. They would check things out and your parents wouldn't need to know you had a hand in it. They could be sent to rehab and you might be placed back in their custody at a later time," he slowed as he saw my expression. His eyebrows creased, "if you're going to look that horrified at least tell me why. You haven't said a word."

I swallowed my mouthful of sandwich and started to collect my thoughts, "First... I'm sixteen. In less than two years I can make this all go away. I can hide from them for that long..."

"You shouldn't have to though."

"A foster home wouldn't be much better," I kept my voice as a hiss. I didn't want anyone to overhear our conversation even though the rumble of the room could probably mask out some screams.

"It might be..." he sighed, "but it's unknown."

His frustration and genuine concern was unknown. I asked myself for the thousandth time why I mattered at all to him. A girl he barely knew. And then my thoughts about his life filtered back in through the fuzz around me. Why did I care to know more about him?

"Why do you look so confused?" he said out of the blue, "Are you thinking about this at all?"

His eyes forced a pang of guilt. This was about me and yet I was only thinking about the fact it was about me and not on the 'it'. "Sorry..." I murmured as I took  last bite out of my sandwich.

He waved my apology off, "No, no, it's a difficult subject. I know. It's important but so is what you're thinking about. So, what are you thinking about anyways?"

Maybe if this were some romance story, which my life is most definitely not, this would have been the perfect time to blush cutely and say 'you' shyly. But 'cute' was another thing that had nothing to do with me and I'm not one for those moments in books. The moment you start rooting for the couple because their dumb hands touched or because they met each other's eyes like normal people in normal conversations do. This wasn't one of those times. Those 'moments' were stupid and unreal. I'd like to think that when you fall in love it's a bit more than just noticing somebody's eyes are blue and you really love that shade of blue and only that shade of blue like some hopeless idiot.

I sighed and mumbled, "Nothing..."

He seemed as if he would press me for a second but then it disappeared, "Alright. By the way, how do you think you're going to do on that quiz next period? I think I'll manage to not fail..." he continued to ramble for a little while. I had doubted him for a second. Dalen isn't the type to pressure somebody. That much I could tell. What he felt he needed to know he simply knew. What he couldn't gather he'd ask about. And what wasn't given he would live without. It was admirable. 

I watched him talking about a quiz and saw how easy it was for him to speak. I wanted to be able to share my meaningless thoughts as easily without a flood of emotion like the other time. It was something to be envious about. 

The warning bell caused us both to stand. He sighed and said something about lunch break being over as we dumped our trash, put are trays away, and headed to the next class. We walked silently his hands in his pockets and mine at my sides. Right before we split and were to go our separate ways I managed to look him in the eye and tell him what I had to, "I need to talk to you... in a comfortable place not like here. Like the field. But my parents won't let me leave the house... how?" I asked helplessly.

His reply was a genuine smile, "Well... there's always a way."