Love to Hate You

Part One || Chapter One

I balance my books in the crook of my left arm while juggling a stack of sketching paper and a coffee cup in my right hand. My shoulders ache from the heavy backpack that sags down my back. I dodge students quite clumsily, almost spilling my coffee twice before reaching the art room. As soon as I’m through the door, I sigh in relief and carelessly drop my books onto the first table I come across, setting my coffee down beside them. The sketches are still in my hands as I make my way across of the room.

Mrs. Boots doesn’t even look up from grading her students’ assignments this whole time but she does know that I’ve stopped in front of her desk. I toss the stack of paper in front of her causing her to look up at me with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

“I need your opinion.” I sigh, dropping to my knees beside her desk to rest my legs for a moment.

She raises a slim eyebrow. Her greying hair gets flipped over her shoulder before reaching across her desk to pick up the stack. Her mud colored eyes survey the first sketch for a moment before they look into my own hazel ones.

“What do you need exactly, Reese?” she asks airily. She almost sounds sarcastic, as if she wants to laugh.

“I really want to do one of the school murals this year.” I plead.

“Reese, you know I’m not the only one that chooses the painters for the murals.” She tells me while flipping through the papers, “I like this one.” She adds before continuing to flip through them.

“I know…but I was hoping that maybe you could put in a good note for me.” My request sounding more like a question

“I know you’ve been working very hard. You have been since you started school here two years ago, but the seniors are usually the ones who do the murals, not the juniors.” She says sympathetically.

“I was just hoping…”

“I know.” She says while handing the papers back. “They are very good.” She nods approvingly.

With a sigh,  I stand up, and retrieve my sketches before turning away to get my things.

“Are you coming in during lunch, again?” Mrs. Boot’s voice follows me.

“I always do, don’t I?” I look over my shoulder, forcing a not-too-convincing smile.

She only nods before returning to her grading.

I stuff my sketches into my bag and pull the strap onto my shoulder. I replace my books in the crook of my arm and grab my coffee, letting it warm my hands while I step outside the classroom. As soon as I’m out the door, I get run over by a scraggly looking guy with long greasy hair, causing my coffee to spill all over me.

I stop in my tracks, mouth ajar and skin tingling from the heat of the beverage. My grey shirt now stained with the dark liquid that is dripping on the hem of my jeans. The guy doesn’t even bother to help or apologize, just continues on his way.

I feel my temper rise, my face redden, and my blood boil. I let out a strangled scream under my breath and throw my arms about in frustration. Luckily it’s still early in the morning and not many students are around the building. I take a deep breath and cross my arms to cover the stain while I walk down to the gym locker room. Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to explain what I’m feeling right now. First, I get my hopes crushed for the school mural and now I’m soaked with coffee. Quite honestly, I’m  hot headed and it’s clearly evident as I burst into the locker room and start cursing up a storm.

I stalk to my gym locker and twirl the lock angrily, pulling out my clothes in a huff. It’s a good thing I keep a spare outfit for things like this, because this has happened more than once. You’d think I’d get the hint and stop drinking coffee all together, but being the moron I am, I continue on with it. I strip out of my coffee stained clothes and trade them for a simple green sweatshirt and a different pair of jeans. I stomp to the mirror to tie my auburn hair up into a ponytail, letting my bangs fall freely around my face.