Present. September 14th, 2018.
I tap my pen against my desk mindlessly as I wish away the rest of the seventh period. Anatomy. Also known as the most boring class of the day.
Instead of paying attention, I avert my thoughts to think about Art next period and the continuation of our projects. Thank God it's Friday.
The boy next to me has a scowl perfectly placed on his face, his eyes brows scrunched and his eyes laced with aggravation. Probably due to the sound of my pen. I roll my eyes at the dramatic facial expression and hold my pen in place, halting my previous actions. The boy turns around in victory and leans back in his chair.
The video playing on the screen does nothing to signal that I should be paying attention. I can't stop thinking about getting out of this hell hole and living my relaxed weekend.
When the bell rings, I practically leap out of my seat and head for the door, doing my best to keep myself steady. I try to slow myself down before I run into someone, but it's too late when I come crashing into a hard chest. "Watch it, bitch!" The other person shouts. Oh, hell no.
"Swallow your idiocy for one fucking moment, will you?" I snap and look up to see the boy glaring down at me with daggers. Boys who call girls bitches aren't exactly listed high on my list of approval. "I was going to apologize, but you clearly don't deserve my time of day. Now if you'll excuse me." I finish and put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him away from in front of me and walking off.
"Psycho." He grunts under his breath and turns on his heels to walk in the opposite direction. I rub my forehead and let out a heavy sigh.
I make my way to Mrs.Conley's room and see Carson already sat down with his canvas set up. He looks extremely focused which causes me to make my way around him quietly.
If I knew that Carson's idea of 'being friends' meant him texting me almost every day, I would have declined the offer. Ever since I agreed to his whole friend offer, he has been very persistent with the texting. I think he thinks that texting is the pathway to a good friendship.
"Think you could just sneak past me now did you?" He smirks at me as he twirls a dark blue colored pencil in his hands.
"Not exactly," I huff and plop onto my stool. "You notice everything, or so I've observed." I grab my blank canvas and glance at the tray Carson grabbed, the right one thankfully.
"Well, your observations are correct, Ms. Wilson!" I can imagine the exclamation points that would follow that sentence if he were to be texting me.
Just as I'm about to answer, Mrs.C comes up and gently taps my shoulder. "Hi there, how's your day?"
She tries to ask me this every day to check in. I used to find it annoying, but I've grown to like the genuine interest in my day that she shares.
"Typical. Same old boring classes and predictable students. I feel like I'm living in a loop." I sigh, crossing my arms and letting the blank canvas taunt me.
"It'll get better, trust me. Soon you'll know what I mean." She pats my shoulder one final time before moving on to the next student.
After about twenty minutes of leaning into my hand and staring at the currently plain canvas, I realize that I have lost all sense of creativity. It's been twenty some minutes, and I haven't had even a sliver of an idea course through my brain.
"Not to interrupt your ever so eventful art process, but Lena? You haven't done anything this whole period. I'm beginning to think you're possessed." He cracks a smile at the thought, and I slap my palm against my face with a heavy sigh.
"I can't think, ugh!" I groan which attracts the eyes of the curious students next to me. I let out another groan at the people watching me. "I'm so sick of this fucking school." I'm not exactly sure what lead to the outburst, but here it is, welcomed or not.
Carson pats my back twice for comfort before retracting it and giving me a caring look. I try my best not to provide him with the puppy dog eyes that always seem to pop out when someone shows me an inkling of affection.
"Maybe you've just had a long day. Everyone has off days. I know I have." He gives me a sympathetic smile, and I hate it. I hate when people feel bad for me.
"Don't do that, please," I say with all the dramatic glory that those words come with.
"Do what?" He asks, confusion lacing his features.
"Try and pretend to feel bad for me."
"I don't feel bad for you, and I don't pretend. I'm not a very good actor." He picks up the brush I'm holding in my hand and puts a bit of red paint on it, ignoring my protests for him to give it back. Without listening to me, he draws a big slash of red paint on my canvas and grabs my hand again, putting the brush back in place. "Now think, what can be created from the streak of red paint?"
My jaw hangs open as I stare at him with aggravation. I'm pissed he just ruined a perfectly good canvas.
"What the hell did you do that for? You just ruined a canvas for no reason!" I scowl at him and put my hands on my hips as I stare down the red line.
"I didn't ruin the canvas, Lena. It's up to you if it's ruined or not." He winks, and I look at him with a confused look.
"Carson, did you choke down a pound of weed before we came here or what?" He chuckles and shakes his head.
"No, Lena. What I'm saying is, maybe all you need to do to get your creativity back is to have something to start with. The red line." The pieces fall into place in my mind as I look back and forth between him and the canvas.
"Oh," I say with realization. "Thanks then, I guess."
"No problem." He winked one final time and went back to his work, a smile permanently placed on his lips.
When the bell rang, I gave Mrs.C a wave goodbye and mumbled one to Carson too. I raced my way to my car, pushing through the swarms of students.
Before I knew it, I was pushing into another hard chest. If I run into one more fucking person, I swear to go- "Crap, I'm sorry."
I look up to see a boy only a couple inches taller than me glaring down at me. His blonde hair shaggily falls on his face as he offers me an apologetic smile. "You alright?" I ignore the students shoving me around us and keep my gaze on the boy that ran into me.
"Yeah, fine," I say bitterly. Sure, he's cute, but I've already made one exception this year. Besides, I've seen him around which means he's probably all up to date on all the rumors.
"I'm Parker, nice to meet you." He puts his hand out for me to shake and puts on a sincere smile.
"Lena." I keep my expression unreadable and shake his hand. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors, so can we skip the part where you ask me how many dead rodents I've found?" Bye sophomore year the rumors were even grosser. I didn't understand why she made them up in the first place, but middle school drama isn't for me.
"Maybe I've heard the rumors, but I'm not like the other brainless asshats in this school. Besides, rumors aren't for me." He shrugs and gives me a charming smile. His voice is husky, yet it has a certain appeal to it that isn't like the other boys in school.
"Well, sorry for running into you, Parker." I tip my chin at him in goodbye and make my way to my car.
I hear him shout a goodbye and then turn my head to see him run into another person right after me. "Goddamnit!" He yells and I laugh as my feet carry me away.
As I hop into my car, I remember that my mother took the day off which automatically puts me in a bad mood. I decide to drive down to Lenny's Coffee Shop and get a head start on my next essay. Luckily for me, this time the essay subject is actually on something that I enjoy.
My car rides filled with open-ended thoughts and useless humming along to the alternative music that filled my ears. I sigh as I hop out of my car and tuck my headphones into my pocket.
"Hey there, Lena!" Lenny greets me as I walk through the door and I give him a big smile. Since the seating is "help yourself" I place my bag down in my usual corner of the shop and walk up to Lenny.
"Hey Lenny, how's work today?" Lenny types in my order and shouts it back like usual before giving me an exhausted expression.
"Long, no doubt. I don't know why so many people come here in the afternoon. Doesn't anybody work anymore?" I give my best sympathetic look to Lenny. I pat his back and hand him my cash.
"Don't worry, Lenny. The more people you serve, the more money you get!" I exclaim and notice my sudden positivity. Even Lenny seems surprised.
"True enough," He chuckles and twirls the hair of his beard. "Take a seat sweetheart. I'll have one of the girls bring it over to you." I nod as he waves me off and I plop down into the comfort of my favorite booth.
I pull out my laptop and open up a fresh page to type my nonsense. Considering creativity has fled my body, writing this essay may be a bit more difficult than I presumed.
"Medium Carmel Iced Latte, right?" A new waitress with short brunette hair stands above me with my drink in hand, and I nod. She places it down and brushes off her apron.
"Thanks, are you new?" I ask politely. She looks to be my age, but I can't recognize her from school. Not that I pay attention anyway.
"That obvious?" She sighs and laughs right after wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"No, no. I'm just here nearly every day of my life, and I didn't recognize you, that's all." She nods in understanding, and I smile back at her.
"I should get back to it, see you around then?"
"Yep. Bye, thanks for the coffee." I relax back and bite on my straw as I try to mix up something to write.
Just as I am on the verge of an idea, a younger girl looks up at me with wide eyes as she pulls on my black t-shirt.
I look down at the doe-eyed girl and smile. "Hey there, where'd you come from?" I ask, my voice raising as it usually does when speaking to kids.
"You're pretty!" She says with a satisfied smile. Her two front teeth are missing and her bright yellow dress swings around as she rocks back and forth. Pretty? That's not the usual reaction I get from younger kids.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Why thank you, cutie. What's your name?"
The little girl pops up on the seat across from me with a smile. "I'm Cleo! What about you?" Her soft child-like voice puts ease into my mind.
"My names Lena." I watch as her mouth drops, and I laugh at the sight. "What?"
"No fair! You get a pretty name and pretty looks?! I'm jealous." I'm not sure if she's kidding or not, but either way, my smile begins to hurt my cheeks.
"I don't think you should be jealous. You're quite a beauty yourself, Cleo." I wink at her, and she claps her hands, showing me her missing front teeth again.
"Thanks, Lena! I want to be as cool as you when I'm your age." I sigh and shake my head. No, she doesn't.
"How old are you, Cleo?" She lifts both her hands and sticks her fingers up to show six fingers.
"Wow, you're old." I raise my eyebrows and listen to the sound of her giggle. It brings me peace, and I know that may seem weird, but it does. She's so young, so clueless to the wicked and challenging life she has ahead of her. I wish I could go back.
"Promise not to tell on me if I tell you something?" I nod and make a motion of me zipping my lips and throwing away the key like my Dad used to do when we'd share secrets. "I'm not supposed to be out here. My brother and Papa are buttheads and haven't realized I'm gone." Brother and Papa?
"Oh boy, you're only six, and you're already a troublemaker?" I joke and move on to my next question. "Why can't you be out here? Let's get you back." I stand up and take her hand. She takes it and leaps up with a small frown, but her eyes are still shining.
I watch her long french braids collide as she swings her head while we walk. Lenny is watching us with a goofy smile on his face before turning serious.
"My gosh, Cleo! Not again. You're going to have to start going to school all day if you're gonna keep running off!" I see the humor running through his expression and smile at the horror on Cleo's. "She wasn't a bother was she?"
I shake my head and smile. "Not at all." I pick her up and hand her over to Lenny. She waves me goodbye and gives me a lopsided smile. "She said that her Papa and Brother told her not to come out here?"
"That's Cleo for you, always trying to trick her old Pop." Cleo giggles into his neck. Wait.. if Lenny is her "Papa" then...
"Hey, Pop whats wr—" Carson's shocked expression at Cleo's guilt-ridden face explains it all. I didn't know Carson had a little sister. Then again, I didn't give him a chance. "Damn, Cleo!"
"Language," Lenny says sternly. "She didn't do anything; she's just talking with Lena."
Carson turns to me and shrugs. "Sorry, she cannot listen." He gives me a shy smile and picks up Cleo before apologizing again and turning away.
That was weird. His shy smile made me question the situation. It's like he didn't want me to know that he has a sister. Maybe I'm just overreacting like I always do.
I shove the thoughts of Carson and Cleo to the back of my mind and begin to type down unnecessary words.