Sweat stain
"'Writing is the indelible fingerprint of my soul on paper."'
After my little show down with Mr King, aka Simba's daddy killer Scar in disguise, it was art for the first two periods. If I'm being completely honest, the only reason I took art GCSE is because there were no better options and I thought if my acting career went to mush, at least I could become a graphics designer or something cool.
I'm pretty decent and am certain to get a C at the end of the year which is A okay with me.
Mr Craig is the teacher, a large man with multiple chins and cheeks that reach the floor. He's really nice and unlike some teachers, doesn't take enjoyment in embarrassing students.
I take a seat at the back of the room with Laurie, the only friend in my class. Laurie is amazing at art, her book is filled with what she calls 'scribbles' but I call 'masterpieces'. She is sure to get an A* at the end of the year.
I pull out my sketch book and begin to draw whatever comes to mind as Mr Craig gets the class situated. I think what I love most about art is how calming it is. I could have the worst day possible, then have art and feel relaxed and refreshed. If only I had art last Friday.
Oh, about Friday night after the concert. I hung out with my friends (we had to stand since I gave up the blanket) and I didn't see or even think about Brecken. If I'm being perfectly honest, I'm so glad I missed my bus. I don't think I could face him so soon after what he said. Admittedly, I went home and had a good cry session whilst everyone was asleep. I was meant to stay over Maisy's but I just felt so hollow. Stupid, I know.
"Sorry about that everyone," Mr Craig began, pulling the lid off of his white board pen, he began to write down the homework. "This is due in two weeks time. I want you to draw a family member or a friend in a quick sketch. No shading, just lined drawings. It's very simple, will only take about ten to twenty minutes. I look forward to see who you choose."
I write all that down in my SRB, already pondering on who I will choose. Molly will be too hard since she can't even sit still to watch a movie with me, Kieran will never agree to it, and mum is always working. Friend it will have to be then.
"For now, I want each of you to draw an object from your pencil cases, in a larger scale and with as much detail and shading as possible. You will do this for the rest of the period whilst I mark some year nine work, then second period we will do some work on the computers. Sound good?"
The class nods and spoke their agreement and Mr Craig went and sat on his desk where a pile of papers awaited him.
I decide to do something simple, just my circular sharpener. The blades would be a little more difficult, but in general it should be a walk in the park.
Ten minutes into the class, my hand already begins to ache and I need a pee. TMI I know.
"Uh, sir?" I say raising my hand. Mr Craig looks up and immediately smiles when he sees its me speaking. Believe it or not, but Mr Craig's nephew works along side my dad in the army. Therefore I'm a little more familiar with Mr Craig since I've seen him a few times at (sadly) funerals, and the occasional fund raiser.
"Yes Tegan, what can I do for you?"
I might as well be straight forwards.
"Can I go to the bathroom?"
Mr Craig raises an eyebrow. I've seen this look and have heard the speech afterwards. "Students must wait until break or lunch to use the restrooms to prevent fire alarm pranks and skipping class."
As if do either of those things. My dad would fly over just to ring my neck on the washing line.
"Sorry sir, it's um...urgent." I stammer.
That earned a few snickers. I was tempted to yell that just because a girl was desperate for the toilet, did not mean they were on their period. However with teachers, especially male, the period card almost always works.
Mr Craig shifts uncomfortably in his chair and quickly waves for me to go. I give a nod of thanks before walking out of the room. Once I'm out, I begin running down the hall. Yeah, I need to go that bad. What? I drank a lot on my way to school. Did I mention I drink when I'm nervous? It's like eating but I prefer liquids.
I reach the art block toilets, only to discover they're being refurbished. I groan and go outside into the pouring rain.
My converse squeak as they splash in the large puddles that had formed on the ground. Wasn't I so used to this weather, being British and all, I probably would have gone back to class and held it in.
Well, Tegan Lynn Blair is not a quitter. I shall find a toilet if it's that last thing I do!
I'm well aware that I need help.
I go to the sports hall which just so happens to be the closest building with a toilet. It should be empty since despite the rain storm, the school still forces students to play games outside.
I step inside, shaking my dripping hair like a wet dog and run my numb fingers through it. I wipe the rain drops from my glasses with the dry inside of my sleeve and place them back on.
That's when I realise. The sports hall isn't empty.
At least ten guys are playing basketball. All in the year above, all unnaturally good looking.
Lord help me.
"Hey cutie." Says a voice from behind, literally making me jump ten feet into the bloody air.
I swirl around to find Oliver Chase giving me the once over. He has curly blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. He wears a blue wife beater like the rest of the guys, navy shorts and Nike trainers. The assemble shows off his muscles that send just about every girl in my school drooling. Myself included.
"I-I...toilet." I stammer
Oh. My. God. Please tell me I didn't just say that! In front of Oliver Chase. One of the most popular and God like guys in my school!
I face palm inwardly.
With a brick.
With a nail on the end.
Oliver gives me a strange look before bursting into laughter. I feel water drip down my flaming cheeks as I look down at my soaked converse.
"We should let her stay!" One of the guys called from behind me. "Show her what we can do!"
I quickly look up at Oliver who has his arms crossed over his large chest and is still giving me that strange look. "Can you play?"
I open my mouth to say no, because well I can't, and should really be getting back before Mr Craig kills me, but two large hands wrap around my waist and pull me back. I yelp and spin around the see amused grey eyes.
Eyes belonging to none other than Brecken Davis.
"Hey dirt stain." He whispers in my ear so only I can hear.
I squirm against his grip but he is strong. I hiss, hoping that will at least freak him out.
It didn't.
"I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore." I growl in his face. Some of the guys laugh at my reaction, others have already resumed playing.
"Did I say that? Oh well, I guess you've finally discovered I don't keep my word."
Where the hell is the teacher?
I glare at him, he smiles back. When he's not expecting it, I stomp down hard on his foot, causing him to release my waist with a cry. I give him a smug look and turn to the other guys who are stood with their jaws on the ground.
I give them all the once over before turning on my heel and walking out of the door.
"Wait!" Oliver shouts and I stop. Slowly, I turned around, placing a hand on my hip. Wow, where is this confidence coming from? Bring back the old Tegan!
"Yes?" I say.
Oliver suddenly looks shy, his cheeks flaming red. "One shot?"
I roll my eyes and open my arms. David Harris who had been holding the basket ball chucks it to me and I catch it with little struggle.
Yes Tegan! You caught the ball when it actually mattered!
The girls usually play basket ball around December to January. I should remember, or at least I hope I do. Besides, I'm kick ass at netball. Surely there isn't that much of a difference.
I lift the ball, squinting my eyes at the basket and rise to my tiptoes. I'm aware of every guys eyes on me as I take a deep breath.
I throw.
The ball goes straight in.
Now I'm happy dancing.
I can't help it. I honestly thought I'd miss and have to deal with the embarrassment. I turn to the boys to find some giving me surprised looks and others uneasy. I couldn't care less.
I scored! I actually scored! My games teacher would be so proud considering she shouts at me basically every week for my lack of sports skills.
I walk past Brecken who looks the most shocked and thrust the ball into his chest with as much strength as I have, which sadly isn't much. He hardly even flinches.
"See you in English, sweat stain." I say and walk out to go and pee.
I'm still bursting.
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