cassandra (a second appearance).

there is a boy in cassandra's life.

no, she is not in love. her parents have succeeded far too well in conditioning in her a profound disinterest in romantic relationships--she is a student, she doesn't need to waste time with boys, she has better troubles than that. she has gone so far as to tell me that she doesn't want to get married when she grows up.

he is her partner in dance class. the others dismiss him as a class clown, but to her, he is polite. decent. intelligent in conversation. clever enough to win arguments with the teachers if he tried, she says. i've never met him, but knowing her, she's probably polishing the truth. i nod my head and within two minutes, i have forgotten about him.

one day, she tells me he has been put in jail, and he will be transferred to a military school soon. although i'm studying the wall directly to her right, i know her eyes are full with empathetic disappointment for him. she is upset that he is throwing this comfortable suburban life away just because of one mistake too many. she is upset because he is smarter than that. she doesn't understand his passive unconcern for his predicament, which he accepts without a fight. "i'm more worried about him than he is," she says, "and that worries me."

and for the first time during this conversation, i stare directly into her eyes as a thousand thoughts flash through my mind.

i don't know this boy's story. i don't even know his name. what i do know is that i cannot judge him until i can perceive him sans the filter of cassandra's views. perhaps he's wasting opportunity like she tells me. all i see is a girl who cares hopelessly more than she should for a boy who's already come to terms with his own future.

maybe i am a cold, impersonal bitch who cannot appreciate a noble cause because the people in my world are ultimately concerned not for others, but themselves. perhaps this sort of caring for another person should be appreciated since goodness knows it doesn't happen often enough. but ultimately, no matter how strongly cassandra feels, she cannot help him see the opportunities that she does. she cannot do so because she cannot touch him in that part deep down where the mind and the heart are connected. that truth manifests itself in the tone of her voice, the expression sculpting her eyebrows.

for a long, selfish moment, i want to open my soul and tell her all of this in a torrent ofwhys and nos and understands. in the end, though, i never do.