Historically Speaking

[Emprexx Plush]

((Garrett Wilde continued from The Mask Slips))

The ancient Greeks were responsible for countless innovations. Nearly every field in modern science, art, and ethics drew heavily from their conclusions, so objectively there is no doubt that their memory should be treated with due respect and deference. Yet there are moments where one can't help but wonder if the world would be a better, or at least simpler, place if the Greeks had skipped over one or two of their brilliant inventions.

Garrett was experiencing one of those moments as he stared blankly at his Geometry text book.

It wasn't that the work was hard for him. It was challenging, of course, but easily accomplished when he could find the will. Garrett had always had a problem connecting with math, though. It seemed like such a cold, dispassionate aspect of science, and while normally he embraced anything that removed emotions as a factor, math had an unfortunate habit of reducing people and situations into unfeeling, unthinking numbers. The concept of removing rather than subduing emotion left him with uncomfortable reminders of the flawed logic he practiced in his late childhood, and the distraction from those memories was often enough to derail his studies entirely.

It was a stroke of luck that he didn't come to the Library to study today. He was only using the text to kill time while waiting to meet up with Bella, after all, so there was no pressure to push past his anxiety and do any serious work with the text. Normally he'd choose lighter, safer reading to occupy his time before a meeting, but he felt at ease letting his guard down a bit around Bella. She was one of the few people that he allowed himself to be truly honest around, given her unique insight into his past emotional issues. They hadn't been able to speak at length for awhile, and he was looking forward the the feeling of refreshment he experienced after talking openly with her for awhile.

He reached into his pocket to check the time on his phone. If things went as planned, she'd be here shortly. Until then, it was time to return to the house Euclid built.

[Sansa]

((Mirabella Strong continued from She Taught Me How to Blind With Science))

Latin test tomorrow...better go over the imperative again. Oh, and auxiliary verbs. Hmm. Probably best to just go over everything.

Mirabella slowly made her way across the hallway of the second floor, a hardback copy of Les Misérables tucked under her arm. She hoped that Garrett had reached the library before her; the ambience of the library was not the most desirable, and being there by herself always made her a little nervous. Still, if he wasn't, she could probably pour over the notes she'd made from her last session from Alice, or start making a mnemonic to remember another set of Latin vocabulary.

Approaching the doors that led to the sparsely decorated room, she paused to check that she looked proper enough for her meeting with Garrett.

Wouldn't do for me to look a mess now, would it?

Garrett was a sweet kid. He wasn't the most likely of confidants, but Mirabella appreciated his somewhat unique ability to understand her anxieties. Aside from her father, Mirabella considered Garrett to be one of her closest friends.

Gently shunting the door open with the toe of her ballet flat, Mirabella took a deep breath and crossed over towards the table where Garrett was examining a Geometry textbook. She pulled out a nearby hardback chair and sat down, offering a greeting to Garrett as she did so.

"Hello, Garrett! Geometry, huh? Never one of my favourites, but I suppose I like it some. How're you, anyway?"

[Emprexx Plush]

The library door wasn't loud, but given that the room was more silent than usual he couldn't help but notice the sound. He looked up to Bella joining him at the table as she set aside the books and notes she'd brought with her.

He could tell that she had a lot on her mind already, and who could blame her? She was an excellent student, but excellence bears the price of vigilance. She was always so much more engaged and concerned about her work than he was, though he wasn't far behind her in performance. Sometimes he would idly speculate about which one of them had the healthier approach to academia, but the answer was never as certain as he'd like. In his private moments he occasionally found himself envying her commitment, even if sometimes it seemed to cause her undue distress. Still, he was proud of her more often than not, and he enjoyed her success despite its infrequent consequences. A subtle note of sincerity began to infect his usual contented grin as he looked up to greet her, setting aside the vexing tome he'd chosen to occupy himself with.

"I'll admit that it wasn't my first choice, but apparently I'm required to pretend I can stand it, at least until Mrs. Havok releases my A from escrow. Other than avoiding the eyes of our resident tax-hawk, I'm doing well enough. I see you're hard at work as ever, eh Bella? What form of scholastic masochism is occupying your time today?"

[Sansa]

Bella blinked as Garrett replied to her greeting with a somewhat lengthier spiel. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget his somewhat sesquipedalian tendencies. She wished she'd brought a dictionary with her now. Still, Garrett was a highly intelligent boy who understood the value of academia as well, so it was a small price to pay for the joys of his company. Still, she couldn't help but feel that she should respond with a vocal weapon of her own. She didn't use it too often, mostly reserving it for debating if she lost track of what she was saying, but now seemed a good time to practice with it.

"Eh bien, j'ai quelques révision pour les français et le latin et les sciences, et je dois écrire un paragraphe pour l'anglais."

She smirked at Garrett's reaction. "I mean, I have some revision for French, Latin, and Science, and I have to write a paragraph for English. Nothing too straining, I think, but you never know, really. And...that's good, that you're coping well."

Bella smiled, and placed aside her satchel and notes. She was glad of Garrett's existence. True, neither of them had undergone the same experiences, but their individual troubles were still there, buried beneath ebullience for herself, and this stoicism that Garrett enjoyed so. While she was glad of the comfort her father provided for her, it was nice to be able to drop the façade once and a while amongst someone who she felt equally close to. All of this is making me feel awfully nostalgic.

"Garrett...do you remember how we met?"

[Emprexx Plush]

Exypno koritsi...

He thoroughly enjoyed these verbal sparring sessions, even though Bella usually won. He suspected they annoyed her to some degree, but perhaps the satisfaction of maintaining the upper-hand was enough to offset any discomfort she felt. He chuckled as she smirked and explained her cosmopolitan outburst, nodding appropriately to express that he understood. He would never wrap his head around how she found time for so many varied fields of study at once, especially in language. His father had attempted to engender a love of foreign language with him during their time schooling together, but Garrett never quite took to most of them. Even the Greek and Latin in which so many of his favorite philosophical treatises had been written in held only passing interest. It was a flaw in his character that he hoped to correct some day, should he ever find the time.

Bella was good at prompting him to examine such flaws. The genuineness of their friendship helped him keep grounded, and he liked to believe that he helped her stay the same. It was fascinating how different their lives and families were, yet they shared many of the same struggles.

"Garrett...do you remember how we met?"

The contented smile fled from his face for a moment. He remembered it clearly, though there were days when he wished the memories from that time would grow a little bit vaguer. His dour expression soon faded back into a thin crescent of acceptance, however. He refused to let his sadness poison the recollection of what would become a beautiful friendship.

"Of course, I doubt I could forget it if I tried. Of all the places we could of met, it had to be outside of that grim counselor's office, didn't it?"

[Sansa]

"Now, Mirabella dear. I've called up the counsellor and explained your situation. I want you to go there straight after school, okay? They're very nice, and I think you'll enjoy talking to them."
"I will, daddy. I love you."
"I love you too, sweetheart. And hey! Afterwards we could go to that European restaurant that you like..."

Garrett's answer had caused a brief flashback to flicker through Bella's mind, delaying her reply long enough for the pause between exchanges to be an awkward one. Oh, cripes. I just paused for half a minute. I must've looked odd. Compensation time!

"I'm still surprised that you even considered talking to me that day. The pale girl with mascara running down her face - I swear I'm never wearing makeup again - in an embroidered sweater several sizes too big for her, practically clinging to the chair she was seated in. I mustn't have looked the sanest kid in the school at that moment."

She smiled, and looked into Garrett's eyes. The misty grey colouration of his irises was almost like something out of a Dickensian text of some kind, the ones she loved so much. "You were so nice to me then, Garrett. I really appreciate it."

Sighing gently, she adjusted her headband and pulled out her writing notebook. While she still regularly attended the meetings that the extracurricular writing club held, she'd been lacking in inspiration recently. This, coupled with the time taken from her by studying and swimming training and dance lessons and debate meetings, meant that the notebook had languished at the bottom of her satchel for a while longer than she liked. She knew that Garrett was a creative boy, but she'd rarely looked into any of his writings. For Mirabella, writing her feelings down was a source of stress relief, and she wondered the same of Garrett.

"Garrett...do you ever write about your troubles?"

[Emprexx Plush]

"Garrett, the counselors are there to help. Let me take you in for just one meeting, we could even go together."
"Grandpa was my counselor. I don't need anyone else to replace him, especially not you!"

That memory was unpleasant. He'd been driven to the counselor's office shortly after a particularly violent outburst at Matthew. The entire affair was a painful reminder of just how close to the edge he had been after his grandfather's death. He tried to shove the fight from his mind, noticing Bella's pause and thoughtful expression. He couldn't help but laugh a little as she recounted the familiar image of their first encounter.

"Don't give me too much credit, I was hardly in better condition. I was in that awful torn-up blazer, and I think runny mascara is at least a slight improvement over jeans covered in graveyard dirt. You're too hard on yourself, you didn't look insane at all. You just looked like you needed someone to hear you."

In retrospect, he probably wouldn't have recovered as swiftly as he did if he hadn't met Bella. She brought his troubles and his lessons back into perspective. Perhaps most importantly, she'd made him feel like there were other people out there that could understand him. That support had been something they both needed more than anything else. He was truly lucky to have found a friend like her.

He looked down at the notebook she set on their table and remembered his own private journal that he kept at home, locked the way in the back of a safe under objectively more important documents. He hesitated to answer for a moment. He'd never shown that side of his work to anyone. He could trust Bella, though.

"Occasionally. Sometimes it feels like if I get the worst of it out of my head and on to a page I won't have to worry about controlling it so much. Does that make any sense?"

[Sansa]

Bella grinned at Garrett's response. "Oh yes, I remember. I can just imagine if my mother'd seen either of us at that moment - she probably would've fainted at the sight of me talking to a boy as roughed up as you looked. I did like that blazer, though. My father has one just like it, somewhere. Although...considerably less torn up than your's was. And, thank you. You're too kind, Garrett. Always have the best thing to say, you do."

Wow. Dragging daddy into this. Probably not the best idea...subject changing time!

A ringlet fell from the constraint of Mirabella's hairband as she talked, and she methodically tucked it beneath the laced horseshoe as Garrett responded to her query. He seemed to do pretty much the same as her with his writings, although she couldn't imagine him being too much of a connoisseur of classical fantasy, like she was.

Maybe it's his name. My parents basically forced me to be a fantasy lover when they called me Mirabella. Garrett seems more...I mean, his father writes travel books, right?

Bella nodded in reply to Garrett's question. "Of course! With me a lot of the time it's rambling and such, but I find it...almost therapeutic. I guess that's what all of my hobbies are, really. A form of escapism. Like when I'm dancing. I mean, I'm not particularly good at it, but it's a nice release. Do you find that with your other interests? Like when you're meditating, or hiking with your father?"

[Emprexx Plush]

The mental image of their first encounter was now thoroughly stuck in his mind. It can't be everyday that the counselor's office looked like a survival center after a natural disaster. He must have scared her half to death on the inside when he came down and sat next to her, with his bruised jaw and tattered, mud-stained clothes. Then again, neither of them were in the sort of mood that allows appearances to take precedent. He remembered how they had sat in silence until something, some remnant instinct from Alexander perhaps, prompted him to start speaking, half to her and half to himself.

"They really are trying to help, you know. Most of them, at least. I don't think they understand, though. I don't know about you, but I've heard the phrase 'It gets better,' often enough and long enough to know that' it's a comforting lie that just makes you feel worse when it doesn't come true. 'It' is the problem. 'It' will always be the same. 'It' doesn't get better. So you have to. I wish they'd show us how to make ourselves feel larger, rather than trying to make our problems smaller."

He'd been rambling to try and fill the empty air, but looking back that had been the start of a major break-through in his reasoning. It was remarkable, really. No matter how many times he ran back through that evening in his head, he still couldn't figure out what had led him to be so open with her. It was as if the symmetry between their emotional scars was apparent on a level beyond directed communication.

He chuckled as she critiqued her dancing abilities. "You'll have to forgive my skepticism towards the idea that there's something you don't excel at, I suspect you're a better dancer than you give yourself credit for. But I understand what you mean, especially when it comes to hiking. I mean, Matthew and I started doing it because the physical exertion was the only way to distract from the tension between us. We were too busy fighting the cold and fatigue to fight with each other."

[Sansa]

"I...that makes a lot of sense. You're not the actual counsellor, are you? Going all incognito to make me open up and all that jazz? Well...I have to agree with you. Part of it...I just don't understand why I've got these problems. I mean, it's not as if I've-"

A half-smile formed across her mouth as she sniffed, eye makeup mingling with tears and the liquid that now dripped readily from her nose. Mirabella glanced at the boy next to her. He seemed vaguely familiar to her. Then again, maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

"I hope you'll forgive me. I tend to ramble sometimes. I mean, I...I agree with what you're saying. Thank you...ah, I'm sorry I don't know your name. I'm Mirabella, by the way. But please call me Bella. Please."

Garrett's past words lingered in Bella's mind as she focused on his present day ones. She thought it made her look odd not to look at someone while speaking to them, but too much eye contact made her feel ever so slightly uneasy. So, she settled for a third option, her eyes locking onto the nape of the boy's neck. She hoped he wouldn't take ill at the slightly glazed-over look her eyes had undergone during her latest flashback, or at the fact that she seemed to have taken a sudden interest in his collar. Excuses fluttered through her mind: "Oh, my neck's a little sore, so I can't look up properly." "You are two inches taller than me." "It's where my eyes naturally look, y'know?"

"You flatter me so, Garrett. I really only do dancing because my mother made me do it as a child and I sort of...stuck with it. I mean, if you took dancing lessons as well I'm sure you'd be great! Uh...are things going well with you and your father? I'm not the most relatable person on that front, but I might be able to help, y'know?"

[Emprexx Plush]

He found himself chuckling, despite his fragile state. "No, I'm afraid I'm just another one of the inmates in this voluntary asylum. Don't worry about rambling, that's basically what we're here for, isn't it? It's what I do every time I get sent back. It never seems to help, though. There was only one man who ever helped me, and that was because he was just as broken as I am. He understood that you don't just need someone to listen, you need someone who can hear the real underlying notes that make up your personal tragedy. He...he's dead now, though. I suppose I'm stuck here again."

He shook his head, becoming acutely aware of how he was babbling on. "I'm sorry, it seems that I'm rambling on as well. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella." He cautiously stuck out a hand. "I'm Garrett. Pardon me for intruding, but you seem familiar. Do you go to Aurora?"

She was just as lost in memory as he was, it seemed. He noted that her eyes had migrated towards his neck-line, and he could guess why. Many people found prolonged eye contact unsettling, especially when staring into his vaguely unnatural misty grey eyes. He'd grown used to it over the years, even if he was more inclined to maintain eye contact when speaking as a show of honesty. He was aware that this was an antiquated habit that Alexander had imparted to him over the years, so he was rarely offended by or suspicious of avoidance.

He had to stifle a sudden, deep laugh at the thought of dancing. "Oh Caesar, I doubt any instructor would have the patience to put up with me." There was a flash of panic as he realized he'd drawn the topic to his father so absent-mindedly. There was no use trying to avoid it now, though. "Well...we've never had a sterling relationship, though I doubt I need to tell you that. Part of me still doesn't want to forgive him for abandoning us for all those years, which isn't fair because he's been nothing but supportive since he came home. I wish I could be more like you. You're a far better daughter than I am a son."

[Sansa]

Mirabella's slender hands embraced the palm extended before her, and shook it lightly. "Oh...I'm...I'm so sorry; I really don't know what to say...I've never lost any close family members myself - most of them live in Europe or other states - so I can't really tell what you're going through. I...I'm sorry, though. Garrett, huh? That's a really lovely name! I can't say I know too many with it. Well, there's one. He does debate with me. Uh...I'm really sorry, Garrett. I...yes, I go to Aurora High. You do too, don't you?"

"You really are a sweetheart, Garrett. I don't really know if I'm the most ideal daughter in the world. Clinginess is as bad as emotional distance, I think. I guess...I guess I just...I mean, I haven't been through what you have. Like, if daddy were to ever leave me and my mother and come back after we've started to move on...I think I'd be less than welcoming to his return. But he hasn't, and probably never will, and I haven't had to...react, I guess. Believe you me, not wanting to forgive...it doesn't make you a bad person. It's a normal thing. Some people might appear perfect on the outside, but there's always flaws. And you...your flaw is holding a slight grudge against your father. And not without reason, too! It's easy to understand why you feel this way."

Mirabella paused for breath. She had a tendency to go on long spiels occasionally. While this proved advantageous in debate, it was less so in interpersonal conversations. It tended to make her look anxious, even with the fluoxetine flowing through her system - which wasn't the best look - or like a self-seeking kid who loves the sound of their own voice. Shifting gently in her seat, Mirabella placed her hands over Garrett's.

"You're a good person, Garrett. Don't you ever forget it, okay?"

[Emprexx Plush]

Talking with this girl was fostering a certain calmness within him. He was rarely this open with people, and normally he'd try  shift away from such a serious, emotional subject immediately. He couldn't seem to back away, though. "Don't be, it's hardly your fault. I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm just...well, I suppose you can guess that if I'm here, I'm not in the best state. Thank you, I think Bella is a very lovely name as well. There's something musical about it, at least in my opinion, it's the sort of name a dancer or composer would have. Yes, I'd thought I'd seen you around! I do apologize, sometimes it's difficult for me to put names with faces."

All this time and she was still able to pull him out of his darker thoughts. He was glad that no matter how much his instincts screamed at him to hide, he always managed to be honest with her. "What can I say, it seems you have a talent for bringing out the best in me. I can understand what you're saying, but...I don't know. It wasn't like he meant to abandon us. He was just distracted by his work, and I don't think he ever really understood how hard things were for us back home. He came right home after the accident, after all, so I know he cares. There was nothing malicious about his absence, but sometimes it's so tempting to hold him accountable for everything that's wrong with me."

He hesitated, but slowly took her hands in his and smiled. "Thank you. I haven't felt like a very good person since Alexander died, but I suppose if a friend as kind as you can still manage to tolerate me, I can't be doing too awfully."

[Sansa]

Mirabella smiled, brushing away a tear. They'd begun to slow in frequency already, despite the brevity of their conversation. "Oh, you're sweet, Garrett. Not something that can be said of everybody who walks through these doors, I think...so tell me - what're you in for, exactly?"

"Kind..."

Garrett's words echoed around Mirabella's mind for a few seconds before she acknowledged his gripping of her hands. While she wasn't exactly lacking in male friends, she could safely say that Garrett was by far the closest to her of all of them. It was odd...their meetings always had this overly formal tone to them, despite the years their friendship had lasted and the bond that they shared. Still, it didn't matter too much to her. Friendship was friendship, and that was really all she needed.

One again, Mirabella found herself hesitating before replying to Garrett.

"I guess I understand that. It's difficult, sometimes. To truly know what someone else is going through. I mean, we're both troubled, and that counts for something, but sometimes...sometimes I think I can't fully empathise with you. I would like to, truly. I mean...I always feel that you understand me like few others can...but the same cannot be said regarding the reverse, I think. You're lovely though, Garrett. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She shifted gently in her seat. Break had flown by so quickly.

[Emprexx Plush]

He sighed as he faced the inevitable question. "According to my last evaluation? For having 'difficulties adjusting to changes within my support structure.' In English? I just broke my father's nose over my grandfather's grave. It was...imprudent." He felt the tears begin to burn in his eyes. "I'm here because my only friend is dead, and I can't stop hurting the only person who even vaguely understands how I feel because a long time ago he hurt me."

He looked up at her, the first tear rolling down his cheek. "That's my story. What's your's?"

He shook his head in amazement as he listened to her. "Bella, sometimes I think you understand me better than I do, even if you aren't aware of it. Believe me, sometimes it helps just to say these thoughts out loud and know somebody else hears them. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust to hear this. You're a fantastic person, Bella, and don't ever let anyone tell you different. Yourself included." His posture shifted from contentment to concern. "I know I joke a bit about your commitment to your studies, but I'm here if things become overwhelming again. I know how stressful this time of year can be for you. Try to make some time to relax and clear your head between revisions and deadlines, okay?"

He noted the slight buzzing in his pocket, alerting him that class would be starting soon. The thought of leaving the conversation for another dreary turn under Havok's tutelage was unpalatable, but he knew he should be collecting his things to leave soon anyway. He decided that a few more moments couldn't harm his chances, and waited for Bella to respond.