Let me hold your crown, babe

I didn’t want to go meet up with my co-workers. But, I knew my only other option was to sit in my cabin and dwell, and I didn’t want to do that either. I wanted to fix this situation I was in, I wanted things to be good again, so I could try things with Matt or simply just move on with my life. However, I realized rushing things had only blown up in my face before, so now I needed to sit and let time do it’s thing. Time would go a lot faster if I went on living my life.
My room had the tiniest bathroom in it – I had first assumed the door was a closet. There was an even tinier shower that made me claustrophobic every time I shut the curtain behind me. Still, it was better than the community showers that kids had to share, and better than the shower at camp, so I stuffed myself in it and took a shower. I didn’t bother to dry my hair or put on make up – no one seemed to care about cosmetics around here. I threw on jeans and a white tee shirt and a gray zip up over that, struggled with my socks on my still damp feet and slipped them into my tennis shoes. I was out the door in fifteen minutes and on my way to meet in the dining hall for our ride into town.
Micah was the first person who I saw, and to my shock and surprise, she was actually a little dressed up. Not to the nines or anything, but she was in a skirt and a one shouldered dress shirt.
“You’re wearing that?” She asked, eyeing me up and down.
“I didn’t know this was a formal thing.”
“Go change.” She said, shooing me with her hands.
“I didn’t really bring anything dressy. I thought we’d be hiking in the woods and you know…. I packed practical.”
She sighed, loudly. She was shaping up to be the drama queen, but in a funny, non annoying way.
“C’mon. Those jeans will work, and we can fix your shirt, but you need some hair and make up…”
She grabbed me and pulled me off to her cabin before I could ask her what fixing my shirt meant.
Ten minutes later my brand new white shirt was cut to reveal more skin. My zip up was left on Micah’s bed, and even though I was entirely happy with her taking a pair of scissors to my shirt, she was the fastest hair and makeup artist I’ve ever seen. Still, as quick as she was, we had to run to meet the vans going into town. Of course, the two vans that were left had only room for one in each, so I couldn’t ride with Micah. She shrugged as she hoisted herself into the first van, and I shrugged it off. It’d be good to get to know other people, right?
Of course, the only seat left was in the very back row, between Santana and the window. I cursed my luck and wondered how awkward it would be if I played sick and stayed here, or asked someone to switch with me. I could say I got car sick, and needed to sit in the front. But… Maybe I was wrong about Santana. Maybe he had just been having a bad day. Or maybe he was shy. Micah did say he needed to get used to you. I could take this time to get to know him, and then maybe we wouldn’t have issues the rest of the time.
However, the second I settled in next to him, he made it a point to turn away from me. And he wasn’t even talking to anyone else, he just angled himself so his shoulder and part of his back was toward me – a clear signal that he did not want to speak to me. I should have let it go, but after being so honest today, I felt like I couldn’t hold back. Before I could stop myself, I felt myself reaching out to tap him on the shoulder.
“Hmm?” He said, barely turning around.
“Can I talk to you?” I asked.
“Sure.” He said, after a moment’s pause. He slowly sat back against the seat.
“Did I do something to offend you?” I asked, keeping my voice low. It was probably not the smartest place to initiate this conversation, around so many people, but it was too late now. Everyone seemed engrossed in their own conversations or were wearing headphones hooked to ipods.
“No.” He said, shaking his head. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you haven’t been very friendly since I got here, and I wondered if I did something to cause that.”
He raised an eyebrow, but other than that, his face stayed stony. He also didn’t say anything more, which frustrated me.
“So, are you like this towards everyone?”
“Like what?” He asked, now seeming irritated himself.
“Getting you to talk to me on the car ride from the airport was like pulling teeth, then you don’t even stay to listen to my introduction, I get in the car and you turn your back to me – you’re sending out very clear signals that you don’t want to talk to me. Which is fine, I guess, but I kind of want and think I deserve to know why.”
“Picking you up at the airport was a friendly gesture itself.” He pointed out.
“Did you volunteer to do it? Or were you assigned?”
He didn’t answer, and that told me what I needed to know.
“It’s not a friendly gesture when you’re made to do it.” I said.
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say here. Maybe I’m just not a friendly person.”
“I’ve watched you with others. You’ll carry on a conversation. You’ll joke and laugh. You’ll talk to them. You do none of that with me.”
“I don’t know you.” His voice was calm, and that was making me even more flustered. If someone had accused me of being unfriendly or rude, I would be apologizing for my actions. He was arrogant and annoying.
“You don’t seem to want to get to know me.” I said, working hard to keep my own voice level.
“You’re right. I don’t.” By now we had pulled into town, into the bar where we were going to eat dinner and relax one last time. I felt anything but relaxed.
I let him exit the van because of the other people sitting in the back, I didn’t want to hold them up, and I certainly didn’t want to call attention to our conversation. I jumped out of the van, but stood next to it, assuming he’d take that as a signal that I wanted to continue our conversation on the outside of the van. He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, but I was too pissed off to let him off that easy.
“Why?” I called to him. A couple of heads turned to look at me, and so did he. I think to avoid a confrontation, he turned and headed back towards me.
“Why what?” He asked, as if he had forgotten what he had just said two minutes prior.
“Why don’t you want to get to know me?”
He sighed, now seeming slightly annoyed. “Because there’s no point. I know your type.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Now that everyone was in the bar and away from us, I didn’t hold back. My tone was dripping with aggravation.
“I mean what I say, Ella. It’s not that difficult. I know your type, and it’s not the type of person I want to know.”
“I meant what’s my type.” Jackass. I added in my head.
“You’re the white suburbian do-gooder. You want to change the world. Which isn’t always a bad thing, but your type? Comes in for a few months. Pats themselves on the back, and then leaves to go home and brag about your accomplishments. This war ain’t over in a couple of months, it probably won’t be over in a lifetime. You aren’t in it for the long haul, so frankly I can’t waste any time or energy getting to know you. I save that for the battle.”
With that, he turned and walked away. I wanted to say something smart, I wanted to argue with him, but honestly, I was too shocked to say much of anything. As soon as I stopped shaking and knew I wasn’t going to burst into angry tears, I went into the bar and sat down beside Micah.
And I made sure to take a different van home.