The only reason I still go to school is art. I love it. I’m one of Mr. Hinckley’s top students by now. The past three weeks have been crazy. Mr. Hinckley was a real slave driver when it came to art and we had given in multiple pieces that would count for our grades. He was currently busy giving us our next task and I focused on what he wanted.
“I have a task for you. It’s really big and will count for one third of your grade,” he announced.
A series of unimpressed murmurs broke out. That was a lot riding on one piece of art. I would have no choice but to get an A.
“Relax, relax,” he said holding his hands up in a gesture for silence. “You will have a partner to help you.” Now it was my turn to groan in complaint. I didn’t want to work on something this important with some amateur who would do nothing but waste my time.
The class calmed down and he continued, “You and your partner will draw each other. First on a A4 sized paper as a draft, then you will put your pictures together on one big poster. You can do it in an array of ways: with or without color, in pencil, pen or chalk, whichever way you want it. You have two months to do it. Go on get your partners. I want the couples by the end of the period.”
This was just perfect. The one assignment that counted for a third of my great and I had to work with another person. This was a bust. It was never going to work. First of all, I wasn’t a team player and second of all, I didn’t know anyone I could work with.
As fate would have it, everyone found partners, except the boy with the hazel eyes and I. The one person in class I didn’t want to work with. I didn’t really know him, apart from our few encounters. The idea of having to work with him for two months was all but appealing. I didn’t need anyone looking into my life the way he seemed to do. Unfortunately, there was no one else and I had no choice but to pick up my stuff and sit down in the seat next to him.
“Hi.”
The teen with the onyx hair turned to me surprised. “Hey.”
We sat there awkwardly just staring at each other, neither sure what to say.
“I’m Gerard,” he introduced himself after a while, smilingly lazily, but not really paying attention to me as he turned his attention back to the drawing in front of him.
“Jacey,” I responded, pulling my sketchbook and pencils from my bag. “I guess we should start.”
Gerard sighed overdramatically. “Please, not now. We have two whole months. There’s plenty of time. Let’s just talk or whatever, anything but work on the project right away.”
His words irritated me, because this was exactly what I knew was going to happen. “We wouldn’t get two months if it was too much time. Besides, it counts for one third of our grades.”
“I know,” he said, “But 30 minutes won’t kill you.”
“What if it does?”
Gerard dropped his pencil and turned to me with a look that I’ve never seen before. It could have been his thinking face for all I know. “We’re going to do portrait studies, right?”
I nodded.
“That means we’re going to be staring at each other a lot in the next couple of weeks. Wouldn’t you like to know whose eyes you’re staring into so deeply?”
He had a good point. We were going to be spending a lot of time together. It wasn’t that I wanted to know him all of a sudden, but the teen intrigued me. This could be an excuse to see inside him a little. Besides, it would be awkward staring at someone I didn’t know at all.
“I honestly don’t care,” I sighed deeply. “I just want to get this over with.
“We will. Look, I’ll make you a deal. When we get together to start working, we’ll work real hard and I promise not to slack, but let’s relax. Mr. Hinckley said so himself - relax. In any case, you are an amazing artist and I’d like to think I’m not too bad myself. We’ll do this in no time at all.”
“You’re smooth, you know that?” I asked almost smiling.
He laughed, “Is that a deal?”
I sighed defeated once more. “Yes, but I’m going to keep you to your promise.”
“Of course,” he said eagerly, “I’m a man of my word.”
We talked about this and that for the rest of the period.
“Why do you have art?” I asked about halfway through the lesson.
“I love art,” he replied honestly. “Plus, like I said, I’m not too bad at it.” He shrugged, “My grandmother taught me how to draw and paint when I was younger so I’ve been doing it ever since. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered, because you seemed surprised or disappointed that time you got an A,” I replied.
He started laughing, “No, I wasn’t disappointed or surprised. It was just… nothing.”
“Are you one of those slackers? Because if that’s the case then you and I are going to have troubles,” I told him seriously.
His eyebrows rose, “Uhm, no, I’m actually very hard working when it comes down to it. I’m just not a straight A student, but that all comes down to what subject we’re talking about, because I hate Maths.”
“Ugh, me too. I suck at it. I don’t know how people add up alphabet letters, but whatever.”
He laughed, “I know right and History is so boring!”
“I mean what’s the point. It’s called history for a reason. It’s in the past. Why do we need to know it?”
“Because people have a way of repeating the past,” he mimicked the school’s History teacher, Mrs. Connelly.
I grinned broadly. It’s been a while since I talked to anyone this eagerly. I quite enjoyed it. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. He was just another kid going through the motions of life and trying to survive until he could get out of this school and do something better with his life.
“So where are you from?” he wanted to know.
My first instinct was to shut down, but I was finally having a normal conversation with someone who didn’t really pry into the what’s and why’s. He was simply being curious and I could give him somewhat of the truth at least.
“Chicago.”
“Wow, you’re quite a long way from home.”
“You’re telling me.”
“And what pray tell brings you to the great state of New Jersey?” he asked.
I looked at him sceptically, because from what I could tell, New Jersey was nothing special.
“If this is where the next home is,” I shrugged. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”
“Ah, parents didn’t care to ask what you thought of moving?”
“Something like that.”
“I grew up in Jersey and other than moving houses, I’ve never had to worry about moving out of state. My parents are stuck here and that’s the way I prefer it.”
“I know what you mean. The only place I’ve ever really know, too, was Chicago. Wouldn’t you like to experience a new environment?” I was surprised by my own question. It was very hypocritical of me considering the way I flipped when I first found out they were moving me here.
“One day, maybe. I’m going to school in New York next year. That will be quite a change in scenery.”
“It definitely will,” I chuckled.
“Have you ever been to the Big Apple?”
I shook my head. Not that I could remember anyway.
“I’m guessing that it can’t be too different from home.”
He shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve never been to the murder capital, but I’m guessing no too. Both big cities, yeah, it’ll probably be close to the same.”
The bell rang and I was almost disappointed that class was over. Now I had to return to my life of being miserable.
“It was nice talking to you. You’re much less of a black curtain than I thought.”
“A what?”
“A black curtain,” he repeated innocently. “You know, going around and soaking up the sun.”
“I’m sorry.” I felt offended without even knowing why.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way, okay, I do, but it’s a good thing, because you’re not,” he rambled. “It’s just you were always so cold when I tried talking to you.”
“I get it.”
“Shit, I’ve ruined it now, haven’t I?” he asked frowning.
“I…no. I’m sorry.” I just wanted to get out of there. It’s not that what he said bothered me too much, but his words kind of hit home. I was a bitch to everyone around me so of course that was what they were going to think of me. “I have to go. I don’t want to be late to my next class.”
“Wait, are we going to get together and work on the project tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded, avoiding eye contact and grabbing my bag.
I heard him swear as I left, but couldn’t turn around him and tell him that he shouldn’t feel bad about what he said. I needed to hear it.
I stormed out into the hallway and straight into a huge football player.
“Watch it, freak!” the jock snarled, roughly shoving me against the locker.
My back violently hit the locker before I fell to the ground. I dropped my books and attempted to stop myself from hitting the floor, but to no avail.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” someone shouted angrily.
I looked up and saw Frank hurrying towards us.
“Know your place!” the jock spat, walking off.
I got up and started to collect my books. Jocks picking on me wasn’t a new thing. At least there had always been someone who had my back, not that I was expecting Frank to be that someone right now. My right wrist hurt when I tried to pick up one of my books and I massaged it a little.
“Are you okay?” Frank asked me worriedly.
I nodded, “Thanks.”
“No problem. What happened?”
“I accidentally ran into him and he decided to be an ass about it,” I explained.
My wrist was starting to swell and there was a stinging pain.
“Let’s get you to the school nurse,” Frank said.
“No way. I’m fine,” I stated firmly.
“Look at your wrist,” he pointed out.
“It’s nothing,” I insisted.
“Stop being so stubborn. We’re going,” he said firmly and then he led me towards the nurse’s office. I was about to start screaming at him to let me go, but then remembered what Gerard said and I stopped myself. I needed to be nicer to Frank. He didn’t do anything to deserve my constant scornful attitude.
“It’s just a minor sprain,” the nurse informed me after a look at my wrist and I groaned.
“Shit, Gerard’s going to kill me,” I muttered to myself.
“Who’s Gerard and why is he going to kill you?” Frank wanted to know curiously, turning his attention to me after having examined the posters on the walls.
“Gerard Way. He’s my partner on an art task we have. It’s a big task and since my wrist is sprained I won’t be able to help.”
“It’ll be okay again in a week or two,” the nurse assured me as she handed me some aspirin.
“It’s good to see you in here without having to take care of you for once, Frank.”
The boy grinned broadly, “Yeah, today has been going well so far. I haven’t even seen the inside of a locker yet.”
“That’s not funny. You really should see the principal about all of this and give him the names of the perpetrators. He can help you know.”
“Help to have me murdered,” Frank muttered under his breath. “Yes, Ma’am, I’ll do that next time.”
I hopped off the small bed and headed for the door. “Thanks.”
Frank followed almost obediently after shouting a goodbye to the nurse.
“Why exactly did you partner up with Gerard Way of all people?”
“He was the only person left. Why?”
He shrugged, “He’s, well, I don’t know. He used to date a prep and now he thinks he’s something.”
My eyebrows rose, because that wasn’t the picture I had in mind. Gerard seemed like a pretty cool guy to me, but then again, I didn’t know him all too well and could be completely wrong.
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled brightly. “Can I buy you ice-cream? It looks like you need it.”
“Thanks, but I think I’d rather go home. Maybe some other time when I wrist is better?” I offered seeing the disappointment flash across his face.
His entire being suddenly lit up again. “Sure. Just say the word.”
“I will thanks.”
“I’ll see you around then, Jacey,” he smiled before running off in a direction leaving me to start my trek home. My wrist was really killing me. Hopefully the meds I took will kick in soon and ease the pain. Until then I’ll sleep until it was better. This really sucked, but apart from the whole incident with the jock, the day didn’t turn out too bad. I actually felt quite alright for a change. My mood felt lighter. I should definitely talk to people more often, at least a little more enthusiastically than usual. Things might actually get better.