Past Lives

Parties

~Skylor's POV~

"Hellleennn," I whined, walking over to my best friend. He just sighed and shut his eyes, hanging his head. "What'cha up too?"

"I was just leaving class," he explained in a bored tone, "Why?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go get lunch with me?" I questioned, rocking on my heels. "I know you're gonna go to that party tonight, and I can't make it because I have that project, so I thought we could at least hang out before the party and chat and get lunch."

"...Yeah, okay," he smiled faintly and we made our way towards the cafeteria.

"So, this might sound a little stupid-" I started.

"Everything that comes out of your mouth is a little stupid," he joked, "sometimes not just a little." I huffed and crossed my arms, glaring up at him. He wasn't that much taller than me, but enough to where I had to look up at him. Damn him and his genes!

"You don't think I know that?" I questioned back, getting a shrug in response. "Anyways, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. I'm thinking about doing a painting for art class- yes this is my project that's due tomorrow- and I was wondering if I should use water colors or acrylic for the painting. I know it's supposed to be a landscape and water colors wou-"

"If you're going to use water colors, be prepared to make mistakes that you can't cover up with the paint," he started, "It'll also take a little bit longer to dry since it's partially water. However, you can layer the paint to make it darker in colors. On the other hand, if you use acrylic, you would want to go for darker than lighter colors and it'll dry faster. And in my opinion water colors for a landscape just look better than acrylic. But if you use water colors and finish the painting tonight and somehow not make it looked rushed, you can let it sit overnight and dry."

"See, I wanna use water colors, but I wasn't sure if it would be better than acrylic," I stated, "But yeah, water colors definitely look better than acrylic when dealing with landscapes. Thanks!" He smiled a bit and nodded as we talked about this and that as we made our way towards the cafeteria.

I sat across from him and watched as he didn't really eat but more or less poked his food with his fork. I felt bad for him, as his 'friend' died recently and was framed for it. Though, I know he tried his best to help him back onto the roof. It may have happened only a couple of weeks ago, but grieving is a process and I think he was still in denial.

"Okay, so, did you hear about the guy who had his left side cut off?" I questioned, making him groan. I smiled and continued on with the pun. "They said he's all right now." I smiled at him but he just glared at me.

"Could you not?" he asked, trying to sound angry though, I knew. That somewhere deep down inside him, he was laughing. He didn't show his emotions that much, but when he did, it made the satisfaction all the better.

"How does Moses make his coffee?" I questioned. He just stared at me for a long moment before speaking up.

"How?" he sighed, knowing it would be better to just go with the flow.

"Hebrews it," I chuckled, "Israeli how he does it!" Helen pinched the bridge of his nose and let out another groan.

"They aren't even funny!" he muttered, shaking his head.

"What's so great about white boards?" I asked, he just gave me a look. "If you think about it, they're pretty re-markable." I started laughing a bit, cracking myself up at these horrible puns.

"Please stop," he asked quietly.

"No. I'm not stopping until I make you laugh," I smiled, "You're stuck with me as a friend. This is what you get. Anyways, I went to see the Liberty Bell yesterday. It's not all it's cracked up to be. Napoleon may have not had a hand in making his coat, but he had a hand- wait fuck. I fucked that one up." Helen smiled and chuckled at that making me narrow my eyes at me.

"You screwing up an already horrible joke, is better than a horrible joke," he replied. I sighed and shook my head.

"Me being a screw up in life is enough to make anyone laugh," I replied, making him agree. "Okay, that was rude."

"I'm joking."

"I know," I smiled at him, making a heart with my hands. He smiled and made a heart with his before breaking them apart. I gasped and put a hand over my heart. "How dare." He chuckled and shook his head slightly before eating his meal. I smiled in triumph and continued to eat mine. It didn't take us long to finish and go back to our dorm rooms to either do homework or get ready for the party.

I walked into my room, glad that I didn't have a roommate to share the already cramped room with. I walked over to my desk and rummaged through the drawers to try and find the right paintbrushes and the right colors. Once I found them, I set them out and got my canvas out and set it on my desk. Now let's see.. what should I paint? Oh, a Bob Ross painting! I should recreate one of those! Perfect!

Now which one do I want to paint is the question... Whatever, I'll just make a generic mountain in the background with a lake in the front and tress everywhere. It'll be good enough. Time to paint!

~The Next Day~

I waited outside the classroom, waiting for Helen for as long as I could. Eventually, however, I had to go in. Man.. Where could he be? He usually never misses art class. Maybe he got hungover? Then again, I don't think he drinks... I'll have to visit him after class.

Once class ended, I messaged Helen and walked over to his dormitory. He should be up by now, considering it's almost one in the afternoon... As I walked down the hall I noticed a few people give me glances. Weird. I knocked on Helen's door and waited for an answer, though one never came. I groaned.

"Helen, if you don't get your ass up I swear-" I started but was interrupted.

"Helen isn't here," a voice stated. I turned to see an administrator with a saddened but horrified look. "Helen left after murdering seventeen students and wounding five at a Halloween party last night." I paled as I stared at him. There was no way Helen could've... The administrator explained the events, stating that the five that were wounded and even a couple of others that were there, gave their statements of what happened.

"But he... Helen..." I started, trying to form an argument, but unable to find any. Before the administrator could say anything, I left. I wasn't just about to let them determine what my friend did or didn't do. I knew that no one really liked Helen, but that was because of lies told by others. They didn't know the real Helen. The Helen I knew.