Smile

I don't smile much anymore.

I don't really see a reason to. Life sucks. That's the way it is. So why smile?

Why don't I smile? you ask. To be honest, it's mostly because my sister had a miscarriage last year. She didn't deserve that. She's the sweetest person I know. (I used to hate that when I was younger.) Her husband didn't deserve that. He wanted a kid so badly. I didn't deserve that. I'm not a bad guy. And I really wanted to be an uncle.

But life kicked us in the teeth.

I accepted that. I moved on.

But I stopped smiling.

---

There's a girl in one of my classes. She's new. She keeps looking at me in a panicked way. I smile at her, trying to make her feel comfortable. But my smile is fake; I don't really mean it.

I think she can tell.

---

I walk out of the class. I trip over the doorsill, and my books fly out of my arms. Muffling a curse, I bend down to pick them up. A pair enter my field of vision and hand me my Chem book.

"Thanks," I mutter. I look up and meet the panicked eyes of the new girl. We stand. "Well," I say. "I'll see you tomorrow." I turn to go.

"You should smile more," she blurts out. I turn and look at her.

"What?"

"You should smile more," she tells me. "You look nice when you smile." Before I can answer, she turns and flees down the hall.

What an odd girl.

---

I sit in History, tuning out the teacher. Instead, I think of dark, panicked eyes and the voice echoes in my head.

You should smile more.

So I smile.

And this time, I mean it.