The Hipsters

Girls + Boys

"Do you think he'll call? I mean, Matt kissed me Friday night, which gives him ample time to call, right? Bea, why hasn't he called?"

"Hazel, let me sleep."

"No, Bea, get up. You said you would stay up with me."

"Bitch, it's 4 A.M. here! I need to sleep; I get up at 5:30 A.M., every fucking morning. I need my fucking sleep."

Hazel pouted at me, and folded her arms. "Beatrix Anne Benson, don't you fucking put your head on the pillow!"

"Bye, bye.", I waved, closing the computer screen.

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"Beatrix, you're going to be late for your studio class!", my mom yelled from the top of the stairs. "Okay!", I yelled back. To prepare myself for college, I'm taking these weekend classes at Mass Art for high school students. However, it's a load of bullshit because all we do is study and critique other works of art from past students. I mean, I guess it's part of learning, but fuck, what do we know about this shit? I threw on my galaxy muscle tank, and jeans. I grabbed my boots and bag and left my room.

"You take forever to get dressed. I swear, everyday you're turning more and more into me.", my mom joked. I offered a small smile.

"So, you have everything? When does class end?", she continued.

"4.", I answer, stuffing an apple into my bag.

"Oh, by the way, I need you to stop by Angela's and pick me up some Alfriston seeds.", she said, digging into her purse, and pulling out a $20. "Oh no, I can't, I have that thing after class, remember?", I lied. "No, I don't. What "thing"?", she folded her arms.

"Um,...after every class, we're supposed to take pictures of something or someone interesting, and come back to class the next weekend to critique. I didn't tell you before because, uh...I didn't think it was a big deal. But, now you know. So, don't wait up.", I said, slipping on my messenger, and grabbing my Argus. I turned to leave, when she spoke again.

"Bea, aren't you forgetting that I'm driving you there?", she said, shaking the keys.

"You know what? I'll walk.", I said.

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"Amelia, what do you see?", Mr. Shapiro raised a hand to his scraggly chin, and gave her a wary look.

"A cat, stuck in a windstorm.Why is he taking the picture instead of helping the poor thing?", she asked. Mr. Shapiro pushed his glasses up, and made a weird humming noise. Why do I get the feeling he's been sued before? "Great question, Amelia. I think, that Joshua wanted to capture the beautiful moment; the fear in the cat's eyes, that is almost never present. Oh, and I'm pretty sure that's his cat.", he answered.

He turned around to face the class, and gave a heavy sigh. "Class. I've noticed the change in attitude in here. I know, you all think that what we've been doing for the past 3 weeks is boring beyond hell, but, it's much worse in college. Just know, I'm doing you a favor.", he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "Mr. Shapiro, honestly, I couldn't think of one good reason to come to your class today. It's boring, you don't let us choose photos to critique, and you're a fucking weirdo. So, I'm leaving.", I said, grabbing my camera and leaving the studio. I quickly left the building, and headed onto the sidewalk, breathing in the fresh air. I've wanted to leave ever since I started. I was starting to rethink my life choices.

Shit.

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I sipped my French vanilla cappuccino and looked around Bellis. It was this other cafe behind Mass Art. I go here after every class. That whole thing about taking photos after class was bullshit. Mr. Shapiro didn't give a single fuck about our photographs. Well, at least mine.