We Are All Okay

(Musical Inspiration: Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi)
"Okay Class! I'm announcing a project that will be due at the end of the year." Our art teacher finally spoke up, and unintentionally saved me from talking to Max. "You will be partnered with the person you're sitting next to, and you're going to learn about them throughout the course of the year, and make a portrait of them that will be due the last day of school. Now, you can use any medium you want, colored pencils, paint, crayon, or stick shells or flowers to the page... anything you can put on a paper, or make into a sculpture will be acceptable. Okay?" The teacher announced. Everyone was smiling at their friends whom they were partnered with. I frowned. I was sitting next to Max. "And when I say portrait, I don't mean draw their face. I mean get to know your partner and draw something that symbolizes them." She sat down at her desk and began painting.
"Hello partner." Max smiled.
"Go fuck yourself." I huffed.
"Come on, beautiful, I said I was sorry." He said. My heart did a back flip. I blushed. Max raised his eyebrow at me and smirked. "You're blushing?"
"No. It's probably just really hot in here." I lied.
"No, you're blushing because I called you beautiful." Max teased.
"Well... nobody ever calls me beautiful." That was kind of true, but not why I was blushing. He called me beautiful! Did he mean it? Does he like me?
"I just did." He said.
"You know, Isn't it really fucked up how we keep getting partnered together on things in class." I changed the subject. I got out my drawing notebook and started to draw the bear claw I had the other day.
"I thought you wanted to try and be friends, no?" He smirked. "Guess you can't stop being a bitch for a second or two."
"Shut up you cunt." I spat. "For the sake of the project, I will be nice."
"We'll totally be friends by the end of the project." He laughed. "You can't get to know me and hate me."
"You're cheeky." I shook my head, and kept drawing. "That's the first thing I know about you."
"Well you're a bitch." He nodded. "That's the first thing I know about you."
"Great you can draw a bleeding female dog and I'll draw a penis." I laughed. Max rolled his eyes.
"That's going to be such a great picture." He laughed.
"Well if those are the only things we know about eachother, that's not too far off of what's going to happen. Everyone else in here got paired up with their friends that they already know everything about. I got you. You got me. We don't know anything about each other, and don't get along too well."
"Then let's start over." He shrugged.
"Nah." I shook my head. "I don't like that whole starting over thing. What's happened has happened."
"Fair enough." He nodded. "So then let's make like a pact to be nice."
"And to get to know each other for the project?" I asked.
"Yeah that too, I guess." Max nodded.
"Deal." I stuck out my hand, he put his hand in mine and we shook on it.
"Deal." He said.
I sat there for a moment drawing my bear claw. I really liked this thing. It's coming to life right before me. At first I kind of thought it was stupid, and wasn't going to put forth the effort to finish it, but now I kind of like it. It's pretty too.
"So you said the other day that you like photography?" He asked.
"I like photographing people's faces..." I relpied looking at him. He didn't seem to be judging me. I was relieved.
"Why?" He asked, genuinely curious.
"Cheek bones, noses, lips... the way the light hits someone's bone structure." I shrugged. "It's like art to me, but even better, because it's alive."
"Oh." He shrugged. "I like drawing."
"Drawing's cool." I nodded.
"What do you draw?" He asked.
"Realistic things. I can't do the whole abstract, cartoonish stuff. Guess i'm not that kind of artist. What about you?"
"Abstract stuff." He smiled.
"Huh. You'll have to show me sometime." I smiled. He nodded again.
"Do you like music?"
"Absolutely!" I grinned. Max smiled too. "Do you like music?"
"Yeah. I play the guitar. And I play bass too for this band called Almost Heroes." He grinned.
"That's cool. My brother's in this band. I play the guitar too.... but not for his band. I just play." I said. "I'm not too good at it. I also mess around on the piano. But I love to sing."
"What are our favorite bands and stuff?" He asked.
"Lately... I like Senses Fail, and Taking Back Sunday, and Blink-182, and Marilyn Manson. Oh and Nine Inch Nails." I said. "Pop punk and Rock basically are my favorite. Nirvana's cool, but I wouldn't say I love it. And Metallica, Black Sabbath, Guns N Roses... all that's awesome. Just, again, not my favorite." I rambled on.
"Wholy fuck." He said a little too loudly. "Marry me?!"
"Hold on there, I barely know you." I laughed.
"No, umm those are my favorite bands. Blink, Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn..." He grinned.
"Oh. Well then maybe we can be friends." I nodded.
"For sure." He said.
I thought for a moment about that odd dream I had that one night on the first day of school Monday. It's Friday now, but I still didn't forget it. I can't hold that against Max, though. It's not his fault I'm a fucking freak.
"What'cha thinkin' about?" He asked, playing with his lip ring. I smiled softly at that. I like piercings. Not intense piercings like big huge gauges in guy's ears and four hundred facial piercings... but a few simple ones on a guys face were very cute. And soon I found myself staring at Max once again. I hate to make a habit out of it, but he's a very attractive guy.
"Nothing." I shook my head, smiling. "You said you had a band?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "Almost Heroes, you should come hear us practice sometime. We're terrible."
"Definitely." I nodded my head, laughing.
"No, but really. If you're down with hanging out this afternoon, you can walk home with me. My band and I are gonna do practice for a few hours, and I think our singer is bringing his girlfriend too, so-"
"His girlfriend... too?" I raised my eyebrow.
"Fuck, not what I meant." He laughed nervously. "I meant-"
"Max, I'll come hang out with you. Don't worry about it." I smiled. The bell rang, and I darted out of the room to get to English early. I love English classs. I liked it before I had hot teachers, but how can I resist showing up a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Penwell when he was so gorgeous? His face was perfect, and his hair was a little shaggier than most men, not long like my brother's though. He also has some tattoos peaking out of his shirt sleeve. I know I saw them.
"See you... later?" Max called from behind me.
"Yeah, mhmm, sure!" I shouted, running towards English. I got to the room to discover a few more girls, and Robert, chilling in the room talking. There was a fat old lady sitting in Mr. Penwell's place.
"There's a substitute." Robert smirked at me. "So sorry for your loss."
"Fuck you." I muttered, taking my seat next to him.
The fat woman stood up and passed out papers to everyone. 'The Catcher In The Rye Book Guide'. It read. Great, so not only have I read this book before, but it's actually horrible. It may be highly recommended for all people to read, but I don't get why. It's just a stupid book about a whiny kid who is nothing more than average. His story has happened to a thousand other people. It's not interesting. It's not special. It's none of these things because it's not original.
"Fuck me." I groaned, as I began to fill out the paper. The 'book guide' was basically ust a bunch of questions, asking everyone what they thought. For example 'Is it equally as painful to live a lie, to become numb as it is to know the truth and experience it?' I wrote down, If you're living a lie, numbing yourself to the truth, thing's are going to be great for a while. You'll be on cloud nine. But you'll fall off that cloud and break all the bones in your body when you figure out the truth. If you live in reality the entire, then basically you're just bleeding along the sand your entire life, standing on the ground. You never get to experience bliss of being on that cloud. So i guess the numbness of the lie hurts worst than the the pain of the truth, because it hurts more to fall from a cloud in the sky than it does from the ground.
I thought this out carefully, writing it down with a certain precision. I have never liked the story, but I liked the themes in the story. Themes, and the underlying meaning of things are why I love English. There is never facts. There are always a thousand ways to interpret it, and it's always interesting. Wouldn't all you artists and writers agree? When the bell rang I snapped my head up and groaned. I didn't want this class to be over. I liked dealing with hypothetical stories way more than with my real life. I like the thought of living on a cloud. Sadly, I live on the ground.
"You were intense back there!" Robert said. "I was chilling with my friends, talking about various things, you know... and everytime I looked at you, you're staring down at the page intensely writing something."
"I like English." I shrugged.
"From the sounds of it, you hated that story, though." He grinned.
"The Catcher In The Rye sucks!" I groaned. "But I like some of the themes in it."
"Read it before?" He asked. "Me too. Secretely, i'm really fucking good at English, but shh, don't tell."
"I won't, Robbie. Don't worry."
"Robbie?"
"Your new nickname." I shrugged. "You like?"
"No, I do not like it!" He groaned. I laughed as we walked to lunch. Today has been rather interesting, wouldn't you say? And hey, it's not over yet. Looking up at the sky I see a bird. I smile to myself at the thought of what I had written on my English paper earlier. It was very intelligent now that I think about it. I wonder what it would feel like to live on a cloud. But I don't fly.