Page 207 - A Little Life: A Novel

was much older than you.” He can sense, rather than see, Felix become
alert, can feel him listening. “I wanted them, too,” he continues, going
slowly now, because he wants to make sure his words come out right. “And

I always wondered if I would ever find any, and how, and when.” He traces
his index finger across the dark walnut tabletop, up the spine of Felix’s
math textbook, down his cold glass of water. “And then I went to college,
and I met people who, for whatever reason, decided to be my friends, and
they taught me—everything, really. They made me, and make me, into
someone better than I really am.
“You won’t understand what I mean now, but someday you will: the only

trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are—
not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving
—and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and to try to
listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how
bad—or good—it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of
all. But the best, as well.”

They’re both quiet for a long time, listening to the click of the
metronome, which is faulty and sometimes starts ticking spontaneously,
even after he’s stopped it. “You’re going to make friends, Felix,” he says,
finally. “You will. You won’t have to work as hard at finding them as you
will at keeping them, but I promise, it’ll be work worth doing. Far more
worth doing than, say, Latin.” And now Felix looks up at him and smiles,
and he smiles back. “Okay?” he asks him.

“Okay,” Felix says, still smiling.
“What do you want to do next, German or math?”
“Math,” says Felix.
“Good choice,” he says, and pulls Felix’s math book over to him. “Let’s
pick up where we left off last time.” And Felix turns to the page and they
begin.