Fraying Corners

to the moon

The only good thing about schoolwork is that it wastes time. The lesson today was less about the presentation and slides, and more about this assignment.

It was 20% in this term's marks, but that's still a lot since all the other coursework for this term are 5% and 10%. Jenny isn't too worried, though because even if this piece isn't from the heart, she can still pretend it is.

It's not like they can tell, right?

What she's doing right now, while one ear is listening to video clips, is doing a rough draft of a bigger piece. There is a tree, and a woman, and not an apple or a pomegranate but a gaping black hole. The hole is a rip in the paper, purposeful and something she would like to transfer over onto her painting.

The rough shapes are there, but it doesn't feel right. Not just to her, but in general.

The piece takes up two full pages in her art book, the draft is a full arm's length worth of paper. She would also be graded on the draft, so she took care with the pencils, every line purposeful. There was something daunting about it, though; her stomach rolled a little as she took in the greens and blues. Her piece when finished would be pastels on canvas, the colors dull and muted, the black hole sucking any light from the art, leaving it dead.

She works like this until the end of the period, fingers sore and neck aching. There's a mix of color staining her hands, and her nails are a little dirty from scratching pencil from the paper to create highlights. It was almost done, and she should be ready to start on the canvas next class.

The sun outside of the classroom hurts her eyes; Jenny has to shield her face until they adjust.

When her eyes open, there's someone waiting with her. Mike is taller than her, but only by a few inches. His dark sandy hair covers his forehead and curls around his ears, but his green eyes still shine through. They haven't talked much, but since this year, they've become a little more friendly. Waved hands more, said hi sometimes outside of the confines of the art class. She had never seen him shy; he had always stood tall and with his shoulders set back.

It was the end of the day, so unless Mike had to catch a bus home, he shouldn't have been in a rush. But for some reason, he looked like he was about to run, even though he was the one that was waiting for her.

Jenny turned her head to the side, dropping her hands to grab the strap of her bag. She had no reason to be nervous, but something jumped into her throat when he looked at her, then to the sky, and then back to her. It felt as if it almost tried to jump out of her mouth when he smiled at her, dimples in each cheek, and face reddening. It took her a second, but she realized it was her heart.

"Hey, Jenny, right?" She nodded, a little hurt that they had been going to school together since they were both kids, and yet he still didn't seem to know her name. But apparently, she felt better than he did because he was still fidgeting and going even redder in the face, which would have been comical if not for the fact Jenny could also feel her face becoming warmer.

"Ugh, I just wanted to say I saw your drawing and- it looked really great! Okay, bye!" And then he was gone, turning around and running in long strides. She looked after him, feeling her heart settle back down to her chest. Making her own way out of the school, Jenny smiled the whole way home.