Cynic

"Levi, its your birthday. November 12th, can't you please let me take you out? pretty please?"

The look in Rachel's eyes could be enough to convince the president to make November 12th a national holiday. She truly believed that I'd care about her "interest" in me. Rachel was naive, there was no other word for it. But what else could be expected from her, she was a happy-go-lucky teenager who loved kittens and puppies, as well as her college application. Her latest project? A buddy program that she begged me to join, I declined, my sanity was more important than whatever she wanted to do in order to get into a fancy old school whose academics made an international ranking list.

"It's a meaningless date, a marker for survival. Rachel I'm not going to be your passion project" "Passion project? Is that what you think I want with you-"

Left before the sentence was completely pronounced, what was the point in hearing meaningless syllables when all Rachel wanted was a stronger college application? The autumn breeze messed up my hair, but I wondered. How did Rachel even get to think that I would entertain such an idea? She's known me since we went to daycare, since our parents cared enough about avoiding making us feel alone. Or much more accurately, the minimum needed to be labeled "adequate parental figures". Figures who made money and bought toys just to be seen as role models, working 30-something year olds whose kid was the epitome of classic American middle class genius. People had motives, that's why they did things. Cynic? A well aware one, but what else could explain human behavior? Everyone has their own motive, their own desire, their hopes and dreams. But no one ever truly cares what consequences are handed as long as their personal motives are satisfied.

"Levi Morell?"

History, arguably the least useful or important class, but Mrs Ferrar made it worth it, or did as best she could to entertain hormonal, self-absorbed adolescents. With a raise of my hand in apology I entered the classroom, Rachel's entire birthday ordeal had unintentionally interrupted my routine. She had made me late. The class didn't bat an eye, why would they? I wasn't a tool they could use for their goals, and I made that clear with every interaction. Mrs Ferrar's gaze shifted down to her "vintage" desktop, the one our broke school had given the history teachers back in 2015. Her eyes lit up as she changed my attendance from "N/A" to "Present", she was never one to mark people's lateness.

"Levi you didn't say your Birthday is today-" "It's just a breezy November day Mrs Ferrar, nothin' interesting about it"

For some unknown reason, which wasn't quite unknown as Mrs Ferrar's enthusiasm about my birthday could have reached Myanmar. The class was staring right at me, interested in the role November 12th was supposed to play in my life. The room remained silent, a lesson on the Irish potato famine proving to be interesting enough for everyone to succumb to Mrs Ferrar's own goal. Keeping us entertained and engaged so she could get money from the school, or the district. My seat was cold, November itself was cold, maybe the fact that I always sat on the window side could be blamed, but again... I do that out of my own self-interest, everyone partakes in the benefit, everything is a transaction. Social interactions, gifting culture and even one's own life can be boiled down to a matter of self-interest. The words remained in the air, carried and spread by the cool breeze who messed my hair up but a few minutes before, "Birthday". It never seemed important, just a mark of survival, a check in a list. The day that a simple enough surgery brought me in wasn't as important as say, the day that I realized that self-interest won over anything. The desire for my parents to forge me into their bragging puppet, Rachel's need to go to a ranked prestigious university, Mrs Ferrar's dreams of "inspiring young adults to learn about history". All meaningless, all the drive of any and all actions that they even though of.Cynical? Since birth.

"Okay class, since we all seem to understand the Irish potato famine, why don't we take a minute to acknowledge Levi's birthday? Let's sing in three.... two...one-"

Every voice, none out of desire but out of their own interest. Make Mrs Ferrar happy so she won't impose homework, or perhaps some of my classmates enjoy her, but none of them would've bothered if she hadn't publicized my birth date like it was the lottery or a bingo number. The song seemed to drag out, some of their faces showed the lack of real concern or joy over the checked year. Others like Owen Westman or Ariel Yorkshire seemed to enjoy the tradition of exaggerating a meaningless autumnal day. The count was endless, 1,2,3,4....12,13,14,15.. 16...16 and a half.. seventeen, yay big deal. The bell rung, bringing a swarm of adolescents out the door, a few congrats went my way, but most left to their next class-- be it lunch or art or perhaps woodworking. I'd see a maximum of 4 of these group mates for the next couple of hours of scholarly thinking. Mrs Ferrar handed me a smile and a pencil, November 12th was essentially meaningless, a cesarean was performed on my busy English professor of a mother with my father's input on the date, a day that he would be free from his detective duties. Everything is built out of self-interest, Ghandi wanted freedom for India "peacefully", he wanted to be the face who influenced India's history. Ghandi isn't a hero he just wanted people to see him as one. Marilyn Monroe just wanted to pursue her passion, she didn't care about making history, scandals just added to her passion and fame for acting. Ms Monroe is but an actress fueled by passion, not an expert in culture changing cinema. Huh, early to class, surprising for home economics, surprising to Mr McNally.

"Levi, you're here early" "I guess" "I know its your birthday, are you doing anything special?" "no"

Mr McNally knew me by now, quiet regarding my summer, quiet regarding weekends and now quiet regarding a birthday. A group of completely different teenagers flooded the room, none of them aware of the day, a mental note to thank Mr McNally is made. Rachel happens to be in this class, her hand made it to my shoulder, giving me a look that could convince a cougar a reason to spare a wounded doe. My head shook, a silent "I don't care about my birthday". The rest of the class went as normal as I could manage Rachel to act, why did she lack the ability to understand how meaningless November 12th is? Yelling "today is but a solid number of the amount of time I've survived so far, stop making such a big deal out of it" seems unorthodox, but its a lingering option nonetheless. How- or rather why did Rachel care so much about her college application? And why did she decide to use me as her final project? We walked, her head on my shoulder, both had science at this time... both teachers being similar in name but not quite exact, just like our courses, "Advanced Biology" and "Advanced Marine Biology", "Ms Blake" and "Mr Bleak". One of us knows their grownup career, the other doesn't-- but then again, I don't see the point in going to university when it's designed to make money out of young half-grown minds.

"Have fun dissecting sea turtles-" "That's not what we do Levi!"

Arguments over virtually nothing, why does she engage? With a shrug she's left behind, not in the mood to argue about turtles or fish or belugas or anything related to the sea. The remaining time seemed to have sped up, grateful for that. After going home the plan was to go to Burger King, get a cookie and call it a day. Homework doesn't rest, much less on November 12th. Step after step, avoiding cracks, not because of a silly superstition but because the elementary school kids on the other side of the street yell at me, pitying my "poor mother". Some random noise that could startle the city of Manhattan came from about half a block behind me... Mr McNally?

"Levi, you left before I could give you this, it's rather fragile so be careful"

A bracelet?

"Why... why would you give me this sir?" "You're my favorite student, and I somehow managed to convince my daughter Zoe to make you one, happy birthday kiddo"

With that he went to his car, giving me an almost family-reserved smile before speeding off. That was weird, outside of school didn't count, why would he go this far to make me like him? Was his self-interest really that strong? He really wanted to get paid I suppose. The rest of the walk home managed to be somewhat peaceful. A lazy search for keys which took much too long for my liking resulted in a knock, if my parents were even home. Roger and Shannon were rarely home. Someone answered... when did uncle Dan come?

"Hey champ, just give me a few okay?"

Before I could process and reply, the door slammed shut. Bizarre wasn't it? My fist raised to knock again, going to Burger King in my school clothes and my stupidly heavy book bag wasn't in the day's itinerary. A second, then another and another. Never been one for waiting, not at the library nor at the community gym.Door opened after what felt like twenty hours, no one behind it, with a shrug and a tad of reluctance my legs pushed their way inside. Laziness almost consuming me, had I chosen to take different classes this wouldn't have happened but what other choice did I have when my future was unclear? Succumbing to the money-hungry colleges had been discharged long ago, jobs just wanted employees to do their dirty work while they keep the majority of the profit, planning seemed like looking for gold in murky waters. A light teal banner? Why is there a light teal banner? "Happy Birthday"?

"Surprise" "Happy birthday" "I can't believe how big you are now champ" "Is that him? Oh he looks so much like Shannon"

What..?

"Since you didn't want to go out, I made a few calls Lev- Please don't hate me!"

Rachel... Rachel orchestrated this, she noticed I liked teal. I don't even wear teal much anymore how did she even notice-? Okay I suppose people decided that hugging me without my consent was fine, Grams, Auntie Jenna, the twins, oh and even great uncle Tobias. Just wondrous. But... Rachel can't count this for her buddy program, so what's her... what's her angle with this? She can tell what I'm thinking, an ability perfected during our daycare art project days. Her crooked teeth smile shouldn't work, she knows how obvious her need for orthodontist work and some cosmetic dentistry to fix her smile and enhance her features is. Not that I've discussed or noticed it. But that smile, as crooked and "imperfect" as it is could turn even a cynic into an idealist. A cold-hearted villain into a kind sunshine hero.

"Happy Birthday again Lev" "Thanks Rae"

Maybe sometimes Rachel Lawson is right, maybe not everything is due to self-interest. My birthday still holds no meaning but, Rachel just- ignored her idiotic friend program to make this teal explosion of a get-together a reality. The look in her eyes, her leafy yet meadowy eyes matches mine. She knows what I'm thinking, and she's proud of it. Proud that Cynicism is slightly less prevalent in my life now. Later I'll call her out on this idiotic, moronic, foolish thing she did. But, right now... Perhaps a win is the best thank you I could give her.

"You win Rae, maybe not everything is about your passion projects" "Maybe you say?"

November 12th was my chosen birthday.November 12 was the day a lifelong cynic was born. But this November 12th was the day that years of cynicism weren't lost but.. perhaps pushed aside to make room for a tinge of idealism. She'll ramble for hours, three max before a pillow forces her to shut up, but for three hours she'll ramble about "birthday magic", "changing for the better" and beluga whales. Marine Biology never interested me but...how can something as simple as beluga whales make up 50% of her rambles?

Happy Birthday Levi

This time it wasn't annoying, this time it was more than a check on a list. This time, there wasn't any self-interest involved, not with Rachel. She just wanted her "bestie" to be a believer in people. She won't get that but, taking a smidge of cynicism from my life won't be the worst I've done. A cynic since birth, but an idealist since Rae.