Samantha leans in, her brown eyes softening. “You also have Conner.”
“Do I?” I say. “Or is he only my friend because he wants something more from me I can’t give?” My hands tighten on the sleeves of my jumper, and I tug them over my hands. “And after a certain amount of time, what if he expects this something from me and uses—” My bottom lip quivers, and I cannot go on with what I’m saying.
The bell for recess rings. I flinch, my eyes widening at the sound, and think of Andy being there, ready to talk to me about what happened last night.
“Are you ready?” Samantha asks.
I nod, not daring to speak.
28
DRAWING
I clutchthe straps of my bag and walk out with Samantha. We weave through the middle of the school, where most of the silver seats are, and it feels like hundreds of pairs of eyes are watching me.
Examining me.
It’s like being exposed in the most humiliating way, as if I were walking through the school naked. They see me as a piece of meat. Even in this jumper, I feel exposed and completely nude.
Once we are clear of the crowd, my heart beats faster as we get to the corner of the building. As we round it, Dylan is with Wylan, and they’re leaning against the brick wall. My shoulders slacken, and the constricting feeling in my throat relaxes when there’s no Andy.
“Where’s Andy?” Samantha asks as she sits beside me. Dylan looks between us, and Samantha shakes her head.
“He sent me a message saying he is flaking,” Wylan answers.
“Ah.” Samantha nods her head. “Fucking pussy.”
I smile at her until I notice someone in the corner of my eye. My body stiffens, and I look up at Conner standing over us. Heleans down, and my hands tighten on my sleeves as he places a package of chicken and lettuce sandwiches on my lap with a bottle of orange soft drink.
“Hey, Conner,” Samantha says as she nudges her chin at him.
“Hey, Sammy.”
Conner sits next to me, and I lean towards Samantha until our arms touch. He notices and moves away, keeping his distance. He still leans forward to look at me, but when I don’t budge and keep the hoodie over my head, he leans back and sighs, “Hey, Noya.”
“Hey.” I grab the food and murmur, “Thank you.”
I pick at the sandwich, but I don’t eat it. There’s a swelling in my throat that won’t go away, and if I try to eat, I may throw it all up. And as the bell rings, I rise with the food and walk away when I notice Conner with Samantha. Despite my curiosity about their conversation, I head to Creative Arts.
Mr Rogers writes “portrait” in bold letters on the blackboard. I grab my art book and pencil case and sit where I always sit with Andy. After a few minutes, Conner enters with bloodshot eyes. I open my mouth and want to know what’s wrong, but I hesitate as a rush of memories of Andy in the car comes to mind.
“Okay,” Mr Rogers begins. “Team up into groups of two. One of you will sit there for the first forty-five minutes while the other draws you. Then, after that halfway mark, you will switch and draw the other person.” He waves his hands airily towards us and says, “This will account for thirty percent of your end-of-year scores. Now find a partner and start drawing.”
“Do you want to be my partner?” Conner asks cautiously.
“Um…okay. Did you want to go first?” I bring my pencil and art book closer, spin in my chair, and face Conner.
“With what?”
“Sitting still,” I clarify.
He nods and faces me.
I’m not particularly good at drawing realism. Everything I create manifests, twisting into something entirely different. Now, I’m reminded of why Mr Rogers asked us to draw something outside: to prepare for this moment.
I start with the shape, keeping my glances at Conner short and quick. I experimented with his eyes. They’re the worst to draw, and it’s difficult to line them up perfectly. After working on them for ten minutes, I leave the left eye slanted for now. I’m sure Mr Rogers will give us time next week to work on this before submitting it.
Then I work on his nose. It points sharply, and with his lips, I make sure they look soft. I also keep his angular features as I sculpt the rest of his face. There are moments when my brain thinks it would be awesome to draw a crown on his head, a piercing in his ear, or maybe even a scar across his left eye to hide the slanted feature I drew.