The Art Room

Dirty Dishes

Silence 

“Raise your hand if you’re thinking about it.” Karla could pick out the slight desperate tone in his voice, yet still no hands lifted in the air. She threw him an ‘its ok look’. By this point most people had started to open their books, unaware that Mr Smith was still waiting for an answer. Letting out a large sigh, he started to teach his lesson, irritated by the lack of participation from this school. The lesson after this ran a bit on the strained side. 

“Karla may I please talk to you outside.” The class up roared in ‘Oh’s’ as Karla nodded to his request and stepped outside. A sideways glance to her place she caught sight of a pair of unfamiliar eyes from the back of the classroom. Hidden behind a canvas, Karla couldn’t tell whose brown pupils where looking at her. They held each others gaze, but it was broken by the soft hand that shuffled Karla out of the door. Scanning her memory for those eyes, she hurdled through her thoughts. Faces popped up, but not ones she could remember. Her thought pattern was broken so after the door was closed, the teacher – student relationship rules seemed to be dismayed a little. 

“What’s up? What happened?” This had been Karla’s automatic reaction towards ‘could I talk to you outside’.

“I’m dying here. If I don’t get at least 5 of that lot to come along to art club, it can’t happen!” His voice had a less formal approach to it, as if he was almost relying on Karla as a friend.

“Who said that?” Karla exclaimed, unable to talk at the possibility of her future being crushed because a few moody teenagers can’t give up an hour of their time.

“Headmaster’s orders...” Connor had his eyes on the door to the class room, where as Karla was lost in his essence, she quickly traced his jaw with her eyes, before diverting her eyes to a safe zone of the floor. Hugging herself, she sighed.

 “I’ll try and get a few people to come. Can’t you force them to come, like a detention or something? Threaten them by saying... your grade will fall if you don’t start coming and practising.” She was intending to joke but also plant the idea in his head. Brushing her comment off Connor simply taps her on the shoulder, seeing that a teacher had begun to walk down the corridor. Back in the class now, Karla began her campaign. Sending a sign-up sheet around the class, begging Matt to tag along even talking to Alec, this was a major struggle in itself, let alone getting him to agree to do something for you.

Walking down the corridor at 4:50 was like driving on Sunday morning, empty and stress free. Rounding the building, Karla’s nose caught scent of the smoke of a cigarette. Trailing the smell, she followed path that lead to the back door. There the boy from the dining hall stood, hunched over in deep thought with the cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers. Karla admired his handsome figure, letting in sink in to her every pore. 

“Smoking kills you know.” She spat out, just wanting to talk to him, not really thinking anything through.

“I’ve been told that many times before. You aren’t going to be the person to make me stop.” His voice was hoarse from the smoke. “What you doing here anyway, haven’t you got a party to doll up for, or a guy to see?” The frankness of his voice cut through Karla. She stood for a moment before turning on the spot and beginning to walk away.

“It’s Karla, Right?” He called out just as she started to turn the corner.

“Yes, it is,” hesitating before she spoke. He had put out the cigarette and was leaning on the wall when Karla curved to see him. His hands where running through his brown curls of hair. He looked trouble and depressed. Admiring his face for a bit, Karla was taken aback.

 “Look, I’m sorry about that. I know you’re not like those cows in there.” He gestured to the building as he slid a smile on to his face. The funny warm feeling went straight to Karla’s head. The words in her head didn’t register with her mouth, for a split second she lost all consciousness. A soft grip on Karla’s shoulder blade brought her back to the same faded back door and crumbling bricks. 

“Are you alright? You looked like you were about to pass out then.” His tone was much softer to the ear, almost a hint of sympathy. Stunned Karla failed to reply, and in response to her silence he grabbed her hand and lead he to the step where he had once been smoking. His touch was soft against her skin, his fingers strongly held her in a tight clasp. A tingling sensation ran up her arm, making it numb.

“Um, thanks… I guess I was being really stupid.” Karla murmured, just realising his hazel eyes studying her facial features, her cheeks blushed a tad.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sorry about that...” Karla exclaimed, slightly irritated with herself. Her limps felt like jelly, useless. They just seemed to get in the way of things at that moment. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.”

“I never told you.” Time froze at these words. His face hardened at the question. “It’s Drew.” Something caught Karla’s eye…

“Is that a canvas?!” It was hiding under was few clothes ruggedly draped over it as if someone wanted to hide it. The flashback of art class flooded over her. Should she ask? Was he the one looking? In the end, Karla concluded that she shouldn’t ask anything.

“You’re so nosey! But, yeah, I paint, that a problem?” A twinkle sparked in his eye. He had the same twinkle in his eyes she saw every morning in the mirror. The two secret dimples appeared in the corners of Drew’s mouth, as he licked his lips. The picture of his smile flashed into Karla’s head. It was… beautiful.

“NO! It’s really good…” Trailing off, her eyes widened in sheer surprise. Backing away, Drew’s face began to sink in to a worried look. “Listen, do you have spear time tomorrow? I’m not asking you out, just to be clear.”

“I guess, but-”

“Come to the art room, straight after school. O.K! And bring your work!”

“Sure- Hey WAIT!” Karla had already run halfway down the pathway, straight through the gates and down the street. 

“Crap. Where is she going?” Drew contemplated running after her, but the urge for a huge cup of coffee took stay in his veins. Fuck it, he thought, picking up the discarded canvas that was slumped against the wall and marched up the battered step that lead to his ticket home.