"Yeah, well, even I know not to show up to my job drunk." Isaiah said after the bell rang and we were dismissed from last period. I shook my head with a laugh. I couldn't believe it had even happened.
"Not at all." I shook my head sarcastically, putting on my most serious face.
"Mr. Mutz was a dick anyways." Isaiah shrugged and I nodded. That was true. I beside him in the hallways on the way to the library.
"Yeah, no loss there." I shook my head.
"But I heard the new guy is supposed to be bringing his stuff after school. Maybe we'll see him setting up after practice." Isaiah nudged me with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes at him with a shake of my head.
"You're annoying." I pointed at him as he started walking into the locker room, ignoring what I said.
I stood there for a minute and smiled to myself. Thank the gods for Isaiah. I don't think I would've made it to senior year without him.
He's my best friend and he's stuck by my side through everything, despite what it put him through as well. It's gotta be hard being my best friend, with what everyone says about me.
My thoughts were cut off as a breeze blew by and a smell hit my nose. It was like evergreens and a little mint. Weird, there's no evergreens here. It smelled so good though.
I don't know why, but I closed my eyes and sighed, inhaling the amazing smell. For some reason, it warmed my whole body and a small smile formed on my face.
What just happened?
I turned to the left to see the school doors had opened. Some guy was walking in, but his back was to me. I couldn't see him. The air felt different though, and it kind of scared me.
I turned and ran the other way, heading straight for the art room. This was my daily ritual. Isaiah played basketball. He was into sports. I was not. I would rather go to the art room and spend my time there.
Nobody else was ever there and Ms. Lo always left her door open for me. She never had an eighth period so she left early. I liked to go there and be alone. Then, I didn't have to deal with all the staring and whispering. I wouldn't have to deal with the snickering and gossip that hadn't died down in the two years I've been here.
I'm still the walking shame of the entire school.
I grabbed a thick shear of portrait paper and taped it to my cardboard, placing it on the easel. I grabbed pencil and some water colors.
I sighed, letting my hand glide across the paper and etch little scribbles. When I was satisfied with the drawing, I grabbed a couple brushed and a few coups of water.
I dipped my brush in the water and then in the paint, taking it to the sheet and letting it drip and soak. I did that for a while before I decided it looked good enough.
I then waited for it to dry completely. I wanted to finish it. I sat on the table and turned on my phone. I flicked through and clicked on a play less titled 'I guess we just fell out of love' and let it play softly in the classroom. It fit the mood of my piece.
After I was a few songs in, I grabbed a fine point sharpie and went over my pencil lines. I waited for the sharpie to dry, before taking my pencil again and erasing the left over silver graphite.
I heard a knock at door and jumped, completely unaware of my surroundings as I was deeply concentrating on the sheet under my hands.
"Good god, Isaiah. You scared the shit out of me." I looked up with my heart on my chest, only to see it wasn't Isaiah in front of me.
It was a very tall man, with dark curly hair on his head. Suddenly, the intoxicating smell returned to my nose as I drank him in. His were a hundred different shades of golden brown. It almost made me dizzy staring into them.
My lips parted slightly as I gasped, my heart beat racing. What is happening to me? Who is he? Why is he staring at me like that?
"Can I h-help you?" I cursed myself for stuttering in front of this gorgeous, intimidating man. He easily stood a foot above me.
His mouth opened, like he was going to say something. Then, it snapped shut. His eyebrows furrowed like he was confused. Maybe he was lost. Suddenly, he turned and walked away. His smell lingered. I sat and took a deep breath.
"Hey, you ready?" I looked up, and this time it was Isaiah standing in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He was breathless and sweaty.
I shook my head, trying to shake what just happened. I'm not even sure I know what just happened.
"Uh, yeah. Just let me clean up." I said and he nodded. He got on his phone and sat on a chair at one of the tables.
I grabbed all of my things and took it to the back counter. I poured out the water containers and ran the water down the sink. I put the water colors away and dropped the brushes in the sink to rinse them out. I put the pencil and the sharpie back and then put the brushes in a cup to dry.
When I was almost done, I felt Isaiah come up next to me and look down at my sheet. His shoulder bumped up against mine as he smiled down at it.
"You're amazing, you know that? The best artist I know." He smiled at me and I shook my head.
"Let's just go, yeah?" I asked and he nodded. I grabbed my bag and followed him out of the room. As we were walking towards the door, I saw him again.
He was standing in Mr. Mutz's old classroom, in the doorway. I looked back at him and for some reason, my whole body felt lighter. I felt calm and warm. His beautiful eyes stared into mine. Then, he looked at Isaiah and his eyes grew dark as his jaw clenched. Did he know Isaiah?
Then, he looked back at me again and his features softened. Something about the way he looked at me, the way he smelled, everything about him made me feel weird. I don't know how to explain it.
I turned back around and followed Isaiah out to his car. I'd had enough confusion for one day. I got in the passenger side as Isaiah pulled off.
"Anyone give you any trouble today?" Isaiah's voice came from the other side of the car. I shook my head, blatantly lying to him. I didn't want to bother him. He was like an overprotective brother.
"No, it was fine." I told him, though he probably knew better. But he didn't push. He didn't ask again. "How was practice?"
"Ugh, we had to do killers." He groaned and I laughed. Reasons why I hate sports... conditioning.
"Lucky you." I replied sarcastically, laughing.
"Are you coming tonight?" He asked and I turned to look at him. His eyebrows were raised expectantly.
"Yeah, I just have to ask Grace, but I'm sure she'll let me." I shrugged and he smiled. He nodded, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Cool, I'm excited. I think you'll love this one." He said and I turned my head towards him fully, arching a brow.
"When don't I, my little guitarist." I reached my hand over and ruffled his hair a bit. He frowned, swatting at my hands.
"Hey, stop it. Don't mess with the hair." He pulled away, holding his hands up like he would karate chop me at any second.
"Hey, keep your hands on the wheel, maniac." I told him and his eyes went wide, flickering back to the road instantly.
"Shoot, sorry." He gave a goofy smile and a shrug. "Sometimes I forget."
I rolled my eyes with a laugh and looked out the window. Isaiah is actually an airhead sometimes. You might even mistake him for one of the blonde bimbos walking the hallways pretending their double d cups actually fit them. We can see the gap, honey.
I'm in no position to judge, though.
Isaiah stopped the car outside my house and hopped out of the car. I turned around and leaned back in.
"Thank you, see you later." I said and he nodded. I turned and walked towards my house. I went inside and down the hallway to my room.
Grace probably wouldn't be home for at least another hour. She stays at the school a little while after to help kids who don't have free periods. She's literally the only useful teacher there. She has a college class given for free as a senior about preparing for after high school, whether you have post secondary plans or not.
She makes sure everyone gets to where they need to be in life. I just happen to be the one she saved from my previously projected life course. I probably wouldn't be alive today without her.
I went over to my art desk and shoved my sheet in the little shelf about two inches below the table top part. Under the desk, where I keep everything else I've worked on.
I sighed, taking a few on the bottom out and going through them. I swallowed, looking down at the unrecognizable little girl.
She was wearing a black satin dress with a mesh trim on the bottom. She had black dating gloves on up to her elbows. Her hands were framing her face like she was posing for vogue. Her hair was shoulder length, a wavy dark brown. Her little cheeks were rosy red, the makeup covering her freckles.
She was five years old. She was so small that the pearl necklace draped on her went down around her neck twice and still touched her belly button. That was the first time. She was excited for the photo shoot. She didn't know what it really meant. She didn't know what it was for.
I took the drawing and swapped it, looking at the next one. It was the same girl, but older. She was sitting on a couch, her legs closed right. Makeup was on her more heavy now. The eyeliner couldn't mask how wide her eyes were. Now she knew. She knew why the photos were really being taken. She knew what came next now.
I swapped the drawing for the next one. It was the girl, thirteen ish. She was laying on the ground. She looked so lifeless. She thought she'd finally found her way out. Watercolor paint seeped from her, to the bottles open on the floor all around her. She was tired, but she wasn't free. Unfortunately.
Then, I swapped to the next drawing. The girl was fifteen now. Maybe just turning fifteen. She had grown. Her arms were wrapped around her, her chin tucked against her chest. Her shoulder were bruised and battered. Her lip was cut and tears stained down her cheeks.
Her hands wrapped tightly to the blanket that had been handed to her. Was it true? Was it really over? Her eyes were so empty and dull, staring down at the ground. It couldn't be true. Not after all this time.
I swapped to the next drawing. All the ones after were different people. People on the bus. People on the bench at the bus stop. People at the park. People on the beach. People anywhere I saw them really. I liked to paint them in different settings, not telling them. I wanted them naturally. No Hawthorne Effect.
I painted them cause they were normal people. All my life, all I ever drew was myself. Until after. Then, I didn't want to anymore. After what people said about me, I decided I didn't like me. I hated myself. I was disgusting. So my pieces became anything other than myself.
I heard the door downstairs and accidentally dropped everything in my hands. Grace was home. I looked down and sighed. I picked up all of my things and shoved them back on their shelf.
"Ryleigh, I'm home!" Grace's voice carried up the stairs. I smiled, leaving my room and standing at the end of the hallway.
"Hey!" I said, and she dropped her bags at the door, turning to me and smiling.
"Hey, how was school?" She asked, heading for the kitchen. I followed after her, grabbing a drink from the fridge and leaning against the counter.
"Good. Actually, Isaiah's performing at The Brick tonight and I was wondering if I could go." I told her, taking a sip of the water I grabbed. She looked at me with a smile, grabbing the cereal out of the cabinet.
"Yeah, sure. I'll probably eat cereal or something then since I won't have to cook. Do you have your card?" She turned to me, her eyes wide. She referred to her extra card she got for me for whenever I went out and she wasn't there to pay for food or anything. It's not much, just enough for me to eat comfortably. We do live on a teacher's salary, after all.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Is it okay if I take the car, though? I'll make sure I don't leave it on empty." I tempted her, giving a valid reason why she should let me. Not that she wouldn't anyways. She never really minded.
"Yes, just be careful, okay?" She warned and I nodded, heading over to grab the keys out of her purse.
"Thank you, thank you!" I yelled, running for the door. I got in the car and quickly turned it on, heading for The Brick.
The Brick is the cliche place in every high school story where students hang out after school. It's a coffee shop really, but at night they do karaoke and open mic, though. They start selling drinks at 9 but they still let anyone in. During the day they have coffee and tea options and some breakfast foods.
It's my favorite coffee place in town.
They let you come in and work on homework and stuff, even if you don't order anything. They're really nice too, and give the best recommendations.
Isaiah works there early in the mornings before school from six to nine. He has his first three class periods open though, so he has the time.
I got there quickly and parked outside. I went inside and smiled and waved to a few of the workers. I sat down at a high table and waited. He would be on soon.