Status: On-hold until I finish Tainted and Skipping Heartbeats.
So Contagious
ten.
School on Monday dragged on like it always had. I took relief in the art room when lunch began. I was trying to avoid the stares and whispers. Apparently someone, probably Daniel, had said we were dating.
Dating, I thought bitterly, as if.
I had finished my father’s painting in the lunch period and sat through my art class twirling a pencil in between my fingers. The sad thing about finishing a project was the feeling after you realized that you had to start something completely different now. I had no idea what to do next.
Mr. Stiller watched her from the corner of his eyes as he graded the lower art classes’ tests on techniques. Marie had caught his attention when she had first turned in her trial work freshman year. She exceeded in drawing but painting was her best technique. Somehow she controlled the paint brush better than a pencil.
He had seen himself in her when she spoke about having her own agenda for art. She had asked for longer periods to work on her assignments. No student had asked for that and had put that much effort into their work before. Art was defiantly going to get her places.
Placing his pencil down, he stood up and walked to the chalkboard. The class had one day left on their previous assignment and he saw no objection to let them know the next subject of interest.
Draw something that you find describes love to the viewer. Something that portrays endless love and happiness.
He watched as Marie sighed and began sketching on her paper halfheartedly. She didn’t know what to draw yet, he concluded. He walked back behind his desk and ignored the constant chatter about love.
As the bell rang signaling the end of school, I dropped my pencil and stared at the paper. It had trees and a mountain line stretched across it. A waterfall pulled the trees to it with the water they needed. While it was beautiful and most people would be excited with the outcome of it, I hated it.
The lines were to hard and edges were apparent to the trained eye. Sighing with frustration, I piled up my things and opened my drawer. A cold hand stopped me from tossing them carelessly into the drawer. “Whoa, this is awesome! Where were you picturing yourself?”
“Nowhere unparticular.” I stared at the hand encasing mine. “Please move your hand; I’d like to clean up.”
Daniel released my hand instantly and turned a shade of pink, “How was your day?”
I stared at him for a few minutes before slamming the drawer shut and hastily standing up. Grabbing my things, I walked towards the exit of the room, “Irritating.”
Dating, I thought bitterly, as if.
I had finished my father’s painting in the lunch period and sat through my art class twirling a pencil in between my fingers. The sad thing about finishing a project was the feeling after you realized that you had to start something completely different now. I had no idea what to do next.
Mr. Stiller watched her from the corner of his eyes as he graded the lower art classes’ tests on techniques. Marie had caught his attention when she had first turned in her trial work freshman year. She exceeded in drawing but painting was her best technique. Somehow she controlled the paint brush better than a pencil.
He had seen himself in her when she spoke about having her own agenda for art. She had asked for longer periods to work on her assignments. No student had asked for that and had put that much effort into their work before. Art was defiantly going to get her places.
Placing his pencil down, he stood up and walked to the chalkboard. The class had one day left on their previous assignment and he saw no objection to let them know the next subject of interest.
Draw something that you find describes love to the viewer. Something that portrays endless love and happiness.
He watched as Marie sighed and began sketching on her paper halfheartedly. She didn’t know what to draw yet, he concluded. He walked back behind his desk and ignored the constant chatter about love.
As the bell rang signaling the end of school, I dropped my pencil and stared at the paper. It had trees and a mountain line stretched across it. A waterfall pulled the trees to it with the water they needed. While it was beautiful and most people would be excited with the outcome of it, I hated it.
The lines were to hard and edges were apparent to the trained eye. Sighing with frustration, I piled up my things and opened my drawer. A cold hand stopped me from tossing them carelessly into the drawer. “Whoa, this is awesome! Where were you picturing yourself?”
“Nowhere unparticular.” I stared at the hand encasing mine. “Please move your hand; I’d like to clean up.”
Daniel released my hand instantly and turned a shade of pink, “How was your day?”
I stared at him for a few minutes before slamming the drawer shut and hastily standing up. Grabbing my things, I walked towards the exit of the room, “Irritating.”