To my surprise, Stephanie didn’t have a smart comeback. She merely shrugged. “Just trying to make you feel better.”
“Well, you’re not.” Feeling an overwhelming need to ease the sudden tension, I blurted out, “You know what? Maybe I will take art. Won’t be too bad, considering I have a friend in there.”
Rocky flashed me a weird look. “Well, we have a meeting after school if you want to go with me.”
“I don’t really have a choice.” I sighed.
“Okay, friend. I’ll see you then.”
Stephanie snorted silently with a shake of her head.
***
My knee bounced up and down, causing the wooden table to shake. Rocky’s hand shot out and pressed down on my thigh. “Stop it.”
“I can’t help it,” I hissed. “I move around when I’m restless…and when I want to run away.”
Her eyes twinkled as the left corner of her mouth lifted up in amusement. “Could it be that you’re nervous?”
“Nervous? Nah, I’m never nervous.” I glanced around and wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans.
“Really? Because you’re not doing a very good job of hiding it.” She giggled quietly and looked around the classroom. “I promise there’s nothing here to be worried about. Besides, I’m here with you. You’ll be fine.” She paused. “And I promise you won’t have to strip.”
I blushed and quickly looked away. As I gazed around the classroom, I quickly realized I didn’t recognize about half the students who filled the room. I spotted a group of bougie looking art kids staring back at me as if I were some wild animal that had just been let out of its cage.
“I don’t get people sometimes,” I growled under my breath.
“What was that?” Rocky asked, busying herself by sharpening a stick of charcoal.
“Nothing. Forget about it.” I shook my head and diverted my attention on the cracks of my plastic binder. I ran my hands over the sharp slivers of blue and sighed. Those bougie kids wouldn’t know one thing about having to reuse the same school supplies every single year. They wouldn’t know how it felt to duct tape the cardboard backing or find new screws for the metallic clasps. I was like a savage to them. I couldn’t really fault them for staring.
Just as I was tempted to get up and leave, a petite young woman with bright corn-colored hair walked into the room. Her ivory skin almost glittered under the fluorescent lights. Had it not been for the quirky, cartoonish smile on her face, she would have been pretty hot. She had that sexy librarian thing going on—complete with black rimmed glasses, which sat primly on her freckled ski jump nose.
Rocky glanced at me and narrowed her eyes. “Are you checking her out?”
I shrugged, but didn’t say a word.
“That’s Miss McMillan. She’s the new art instructor,” she explained to me as if I cared.
My eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-three years old, and so not what I pictured an art teacher to look like. “Well, this class just got more interesting.”
Rocky’s mouth dropped open. She glanced over at our teacher and frowned. “Remind me again why I invited you here?”
I smirked. “Is someone jealous?”
Rocky’s cheeks burned brightly. In a clipped tone, she replied, “I just think you should be a little bit more careful about your…your…”
“My what?”
“Never mind. I never did understand your shenanigans.”
Just like that, all humor left me. “That’s not what…oh, forget it.”
Probably sensing us talking about her, Miss McMillan walked toward me and extended a pale, slim hand. “Hello, you’re new here.”
“Guess so.” I shook her hand lightly, fearing that if I squeezed tight I’d break her seemingly frail bones.
She nodded and smiled. “I’m Miss McMillan. And you are?”
“Jesse.”
“Do you draw? Sculpt? Paint?” Her eyes darted over to Rocky. “Or are you just a lovesick boyfriend who can’t stand spending time away from your true love?”
Rocky and I stiffened simultaneously.
“I didn’t realize I was in drama class,” I joked uncomfortably.
Miss McMillan’s wild eyes bounced between the two of us. Smiling sheepishly, she bowed her head in apology. “I guess that was a bit inappropriate.”
“You think?” I grunted.
“So…um, Jesse was it?”
I nodded in annoyance. Just like that, the sexy art school teacher fantasy crumbled at my feet.
“What are you here for?”
“I was told you needed models.” I shrugged my shoulders, feeling even more stupid than I had before. It didn’t help that the same bougie kids started snickering beside us. Once again I felt the familiar twitch in my fist, only this time it was accompanied by a bit of soreness.
Damn that Dwight and his hard face.
Miss McMillan sighed quietly. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. We have a pretty introverted bunch here who don’t take to new kids nicely, and it’s been quite hard to get some new blood in here. Nice going, Rocky.”
Rocky blinked in embarrassment. “Uh, yeah.”
Our teacher grinned and clapped her hands loudly, startling everyone in the room. “Looks like we have a new model joining us!” Pausing to run her gaze over my face, she smiled. “And by the look of that jaw, whew! You ladies are going to have good practice drawing classic Grecian features.”
I don’t blush. I promise I don’t. At least not usually.
“So…Jesse, was it?” Miss McMillan mused as she walked over to the corner of the classroom and grabbed a wooden barstool, subsequently dragging it to the middle of the classroom. “Why don’t you take a seat in the center of the room and we’ll begin.”
“Sit there?” I practically screeched.
She nodded with a smile.
“Right in the middle of the classroom?” I glanced over at Rocky, who shot me a teasing grin.
“Ugh, you can’t be serious,” a nasally male voice called from beside me. I turned and spotted a pale face covered in painful looking zits.
“Patrick, do you have anything to say?” Our teacher turned at her waist and crossed her arms over her chest. The act exaggerated her cleavage, causing every male in the room to ogle in wonder. Though the sight didn’t hold the same weight for me as Rocky’s cute bra did, I couldn’t help but look.
Rocky’s elbow dug into my side. “Stop staring. That’s rude.”
“I’m a teenage male. It’s biology,” I hissed.
Patrick scowled and replied, “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’d rather not draw this guy. Can’t I stick with a still-life or something? A bunch of eggs and vases seem much more interesting to me than a pop star wannabe.”
Miss McMillan eyebrows furrowed. “I’m pretty sure Jesse is much more interesting than three hardboiled eggs.”
“I beg to differ,” he mumbled.
Okay, the next moment may not have been my proudest, but hey I couldn’t help myself. After dealing with Dwight and a bunch of pretentious rich kids, I was on the verge of snapping.
Sneering at the pizza-faced motherfucker, I grabbed at my crotch and shook it around. “I may not have eggs, but at least I have these nuts.”
“Jesse!” Rocky gasped beside me.
Miss McMillan rolled her eyes. “Are you sure we’re not in drama?”
Looking as if he had swallowed rotten fish, Patrick argued, “Why can’t someone like Rocky do the modeling instead of this freak? I don’t want to spend an hour staring at a dude. I’d rather appreciate the female form.”
Okay, Mr. In-Desperate-Need-Of-Zit-Medication just landed on my shit list for more reasons than one. He wasn’t going to spend an hour staring at any female form, let alone hers. Snapping my head around, I glared at him, picturing what it would be like to torture him a bit. Maybe Stephanie was onto something with that weird fanfiction of hers.
Miss McMillan quickly stepped in between us both, blocking my line of sight. “Da Vinci, Raphael, Picasso—do you think any of them minded staring at a ‘dude’ for more than an hour at a time?”