Love You Goodbye (h.s. au)

05

Never have I ever been rendered speechless.

And it isn't even in a good way.

I've gone completely mute after seeing Harry sitting right next to me and after he so annoyingly spoke to me. I couldn't say a damn thing as I stared at him, the shock and irritation coursing through me all at once. Great just great. The one class I looked forward to taking the most, the one place I thought I was going to get my serenity, was now corrupted simply by the presence of Harry. Wasn't he two years older than me? Why the hell was he in this class? Art, of all places?

I finally am torn out of my momentary shock when he scoots his chair closer to me, the legs of the chair dragging loudly. I grit my teeth, my face flaring with embarrassment when the students in front of us keep looking back at us with clear annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here?" I hiss out in a whisper, my gaze darting to the front when I hear the door open. An older woman maybe in her early sixties with light blonde hair that was pinned up walked in. She's carrying a large bag, glasses sliding down her nose and when I see the canvas she holds in another hand I just know she's the professor.

"I'm taking this class." Harry responds, giving me a 'duh' look. His gaze moves to the front and his eyes slide over the board, seeming to read what the teacher had written. He glances at the calligraphic ball pen sitting on the small holder of my easel before snatching it up and putting it in his.

"Hey!" I reach over him, trying to grab it again when he holds his arm out to stop me. He splays his hand out against my forehead and pushes me back with very little effort and I almost fall off my stool but catch myself in time.

"Stealing is rude, go get your own." He says and I scoff, standing from my chair and purposely knock into his shoulder harshly as I pass. He slips off his own stool and I smile to myself, walking back to the desk that held all the different options. I quickly grab another calligraphic pen and walk back to my stool just as the professor begins to quiet the class down. I sit down on my stool slowly to avoid making so much noise, placing the pen down. Harry snickers beside me and I grit my teeth, doing my absolute best to ignore him.

"Hello class!" The professor started and she grinned widely, clapping her hands in excitement. She immediately reminded me of the grandmother from the Disney movie Halloweentown that I knew already I was going to like her. "I'm professor Stone and this is Art 202, in case you're in the wrong class." I pointedly looked to Harry and he arched an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms to show he wasn't going to leave. Unfortunately.

"Now I know most of your professors today didn't give you much work except read the syllabus over with you, but we won't be doing that here. I don't believe in planning out every single one of our class meetings because, you can't rush art." She winked and the class lightly laughed as she walked around to pick up the canvas she had brought in. She waved a boy near the front to drag an easel over to her before she stood the canvas up on top of it. When she did there was a painted picture of a woman, one that looked a lot like our professor.

She waved a hand over the picture, pushing her glasses up her nose before putting her hands to her hips. "Can someone tell me what this is?"

"A painting of a woman." Someone near the front called out and Mrs. Stone nodded, pacing slowly across the front of the room.

"Yes it is, and your name is...?"

"Ashley."

"Ashley. It is a woman, but do you notice anything else?"

"It's you." I look beside me to the source of the voice, the rest of the class turning to look at Harry as well. He makes it seem as if all the eyes on him don't bother him at all and I hate him even more for it.