Nice Is For People We Forget

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“I don’t understand why you’re so determined to dislike me,” Brighton says.

Does she really want to go there? Because I will. 

“How do you think people describe you? They say, ‘BrightonWaterford, she’s so…’”

“I don’t know.” She stares at her nails. “I hope they’d say nice.”

“Nice?” I scoff. “Nice is the word you use when you can’t think of a real adjective. It’s what you say when something doesn’t make an impression. Socks are a ‘nice’ gift. That’s the word you want people to use about you?”

“What would people say about you?” she challenges.

It’s a fair question, but it doesn’t have just one answer. My old baseball team would go with quitter; apparently Carly would choose cheater; anyone at C.P. High would say loser; while my mother would say maladjusted. My dad wouldn’t sugarcoat it; he’d called me a traitor, disappointment, and worse before he left.

I offer the words that seem truest: “Cynical? Jaded?”

“And those are better than nice?”

“Yes, because nice is for people we forget.”

Bright Before Sunrise - Tiffany Schmidt

And all this time I keep trying so people will call me nice. Even though deep down inside, I know I might not be that nice. We are all complex characters after all.