Any distractions were welcome at this point. Whitney couldn’t quite get on the same page with herself. One minute she was scrounging for any type of solitude she could find. In a desolate corner, in her room, in the gardens, anywhere to stay cooped up without being seen, talked to or worst of all, judged. She had always been the non-judging type. The girl that constantly gave people the benefit of the doubt, lived by a strict ‘you don’t know people by their cover’ code. Yet it was far too easy to feel as if others didn’t. She was tired of being sized up by the other students, by being judged based on who her oldest brother was and what had or hadn’t happened to him. It was as if she would always remain ‘the little sister of that guy who went missing’. At the same time she felt immensely guilty thinking like that. What if Gunner was suffering? What if he was already dead? He was probably terrified, possibly alone.. and here she sat complaining about people’s opinion of her. That was when the other part kicked in, the fear of being left alone, the shame of pulling away from those she had who cared for her, the need to talk or be talked to because in the silence her mind would singlehandedly rip her to shreds from the inside. Glancing at Mr Daniels she had to smile a little, a small and crooked smile, at the Doctor Seuss reference. “Adolescence is the conjugator of childhood and adulthood.” She quoted back, using one she’d read in government class a few years back from Louise Kaplan. “So I guess that is entirely possible.” She agreed. Twinning her fingers in her lap, Whitney held back a sigh as she sunk deeper back into the chair, her long hair catching in between the back as she tipped her head back for a moment. How much longer could she go on like this? Little sleep, little food, altogether little rest.. As Edison spoke again, she wasn’t supposed to call him that but in her mind she did, the girl straightened back up. “The routine of life. I hear its supposed to be nice, having a pattern to follow.” She didn’t entirely know why she’d said that or where the thought had come from, but his next question dissuaded her from thinking anymore about it. “Not so great, if I’m honest.. which, I’m not supposed to be because the last thing my parents or my brother needs is distressing rapports from the school.. not that you’d say anything but I imagine too many red flags would kind of require you to.” She slowly lifted her shoulders in a shrug, her tone heavy and tired.
He nodded at her returned quote, considering it in the moment of silence that followed. It was true, and a valid point. He’d heard the quote before, he’d read it a few times, but he wasn’t sure that he’d really considered it until now, which was odd for him. Everything occured to him, it was one of the reasons he was such a good teacher, but also one of the causes of his unhappiness. He listened to her, only growing more worried. She seemed tired, and he wsn’t surprised but he had hoped she’d be doing better... if that was even possible under the circumstances she’d been put under. Everyone in the shcool was hurting but Whitney and her brother were two of the worst effected.
He understood what it meant to miss someone and not know where they were or how they were doing... to think that they could be dead. “I would have to, yes, but I don’t have to break confidence unless I think you might hurt yourself or someone around you... are you...” He paused to analys his choice of words, not wanting to offend her or make her pull up any defenses. “I have to ask, are you considering hurting yourself or someone else...?”
