What's the Worst thing I can Say?

Every class flew by me like an ocean breeze; calmly. As I walked into my last class, art, Logan was right behind me. She yawned as she took her seat beside mine.

"School's a bore, don't you think?"

Her eyes stared nonchalantly into mine. I nodded in response.

"You don't talk much, do you?" she mentioned, twisting a strand of blonde hair in between her fingertips.

"N-no..." I struggled to say.

I started drawing into my sketchbook, ignoring her words. I started by drawing two ovals, after a bunch of detailing and erasing, it began to look like a mockingbird. I demonstrated it to Logan, earning a grin from her.

"Do you draw this much at home?"

"No," I laughed. "Like ten times more."

"I can't wait to see them then."

Logan sighed and looked down to her work: a small watercolor painting of leaves. By the painting, was a cup spilt over the table. I frowned as my eyes searched the room for paper towels. None. Fortunately, I had an idea.

"Hey, I could go to the restroom and bring more paper towels to clean that up."

She cringed her nose to the thought of cleaning her mess up with restroom supplies. I chuckled at her expression. "Or you could have a mess invade your art."

Logan pointed to the door. "Go." She snickered. "Just go."

"Fine, fine I'm going!"

I left the room with a wooden boys pass, rushing to enter the restrooms. I then grabbed plenty of paper towels and headed out into the empty hallways. Or so I thought was empty.

Notes

New Chapter! :D feedback is always appreciated