I walked to my most favorite class in the world, Art.
I smiled at the teachers as they stared at me. It's almost like they're waiting for me to give a gesture. I hate that.
As I walked in room 157, I smiled at this heavenly sight. Light shined in through the multiple windows, bouncing off clay and brushes. Previous sculptures remained perfect and dustless, like they've just been put up for display. Paintings hang straight on the cork board. Streamers from older projects hung from the ceiling, I walked up to the color palate poster on the far wall in the room.
"You seemed to be very interested in that poster, Sam." I smiled and turned to see Mrs. Wred talking to me,
"What makes you say that, Mrs. Wred?" I asked smiling still,
"Well, you do come in everyday and walk straight in to this poster, you don't even say hello anymore!" she joked at the last part, laughing her sweet laugh.
"Take it." She added, filling the room with confusion. Me? Take it? No. She must've seen the confusion on my face because she laughed then climbed on the counter to take the poster down.
"You really shouldn't, you're pregnant.. I-" I began, but was cut off not seconds after by her shoving the poster in my hands, I smiled a bit.
"My baby will be okay." she said, blushing a bit.The bell rang and I turned to see that the class was filled, everyone was watching me in envy.
I rushed to my seat.
YOU ARE READING
The Substitute
Teen FictionHe's beautiful, a young male in his 20s, tall, slender but with strong, working arms. Face bearded with a matching head of thick, straight brown hair. His pale skin almost reflected light from the sun. He's beautiful. The only problem is that I'm 16...
