2. Welcome to my life.


The bell brought me back to reality.Oh sweet reality. I managed lift myself off the white tiles below. I waited until no noise could be heard in the treacherous hallways outside.


Carefully I pulled my black baggy sweater down and walked out. Luckily my locker was in close range making it easy for me to act inconspicuous. I surveyed my time table discovering Art to my first period. I could draw I guess but I could never draw or paint anything that mint something. Pondering on ideas, I walked down towards the curvy path way that led to a simple shack like building. They called it “The Art Rooms” – my school takes much pride on creative names as you can tell.


I got there at the nick of time, just before the teacher walked in. She was an old feeble woman who took Art way too seriously. I mean how could anyone ever see ‘a gush of lighting hitting an old couple, dramatically killing them both’ by a mere blue mark on a page. Ridiculous.


Inside I was expecting thirty eyes starting me down but no, it was different today. Everyone was huddled around one desk at the center of the room, backs of heads bobbed up and down conveniently blocking my line of vision. Probably someone chugging ketchup again or maybe eating a coach roach this time I thought. Disgusted I opened my note book and started to draw.


“Class sit down in your seats this instant! Leave the poor boy alone” bellowed the teacher.


My head itched to see the culprit of all this drama but I forced myself to look down. Maybe if I keep low, no one will notice me.


“I don’t want a big fuss about this but I have assigned you with partners for this year. You will be working together side by side and I want no complaints what so ever!”


This announcement followed a series of groans, pleas and excessive swearing. I’ve always thought maybe they initiated this rule for me. I mean two years at this school and not once have I had a partner to do an assignment with. Maybe this year they tried to help me? I know they talked about this to my mom.


“Jessica and Damon “



 “Alexandra with Louise”




“Natasha with James”




My head shot up. As far as I knew we didn’t have any one named James in our art class. The whole class groaned again as I violently scanned the classroom for a James.


My eyes landed at the centre of the class room.


I was shocked as a tall masculine figure was waving at me. I looked back twice to see if he was waving at someone else but it was me. His grin seemed almost genuine and his blue eyes shone with glee. Then it hit me. It wasn’t an idiot chugging ketchup that everyone had gotten worked up over. It was because of him, the new automatically popular hot jock.


And worst of all.




 I was working with him.


He looked like a true stereotypical version of a jock. The large muscles bulging out of almost too tight shirt, tanned perfectly, jaw line chiselled and extremely prominent, eyes bluer than any majestic ocean.


The girls were already drooling over him but he didn’t seem interested. He kept looking at me even after the class had fallen silent. I could feel my cheeks go into an obvious shade of red.


Next thing I knew he had lifted himself off his desk, grabbed his books and was sitting next to me. My heart was too busy having an almost heart attack for me to even comprehend this sudden movement.


“Hi my name is James”


He spoke in such a husky, I’m trying to get past puberty but I’m sexy voice. I could now feel beads of sweat racing each other down my back.


See now in this situation one would say their name back. I being me decided, to well, this-




Instantly my body shut down. I WAS ABOUT TO SAY PENIS. OH MY GOSH. I was certain my face resembled a tomato now and I was certain sweat was dripping from my face too. Perfect. Just perfect.


“Sorry was your name Natasha?”


YEP I BLEW IT ALREADY. I swear I could feel my facial expressions changing into a cringe. Yes I was cringing about myself in front of the only person in this damn school that has talked to me without nasty words.


I nodded too slowly for my liking arousing suspicion in him.


“Would you like the green or blue first?” he asked


“Gr-ee-n, green” I said finally.


I watched his masculine arms move gracefully on the canvas and I watched his face turn almost even peaceful.


“You shouldn’t be nice to me” I spoke just enough for him to me.




Be strong my beautiful


You deserve to smile every day.


Kids help line: 13 11 14


Love you x







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