change

A lunch time story of she said/she said, a complicated tale of, "she did" and "I would never," unspooled until the audience objects.

"You're different than you used to be," claims an involved listener.

A firm shaking of the head: "No. I'm the same. She's the one who's changed." It's true enough, and so's the reverse. Youth is complicated.

Across the room an interjection, a change of subject, a stake upon the spotlight: "I"--the pronoun is bolded, followed by a pause dramatic--"I have not changed," he says, interrupting the first story. Heads swivel and jaws drop. The teacher raises an eyebrow. "What?" he continues, over the murmured contradiction. "Just because I used to care and now I don't?" The assent is unanimous. "That's not changing; that's just being a teenager."

I shake my head and purse my lips and wonder if he's right.