The Art of Life (3 page)

               
I
have managed to make it through to last period without seeing Sonya or any of
her friends.
 
This is good.
 
It could be because I ate lunch in the
chemistry lab.
 
Anyway, the next test of
good fortune will be art class in a few minutes.
 
Why does my favorite class, have to be my
most feared too?

               
I
wait patiently for the last bell to ring.
 
I dart into class, and briskly make my way to my corner seat.
 
Sonya, Jessica and
Daniella
are all sitting across the aisle again.
 
Sonya’s gaze is burrowing into the side of my head.
 
I make a great effort to make sure I don’t
look at her.

               
Today,
we are starting a water color painting project.
 
Super, that means I have to get out of my seat and get the
supplies.
 
When my teacher gives the go
ahead, I begrudgingly make my way to the front of the room.
 
I can feel Sonya
quick
on my heels.
 
When we get to the supply
area, I hear her say, “That was a nice little show you put on yesterday.
 
How much did you pay the guy?”

               
“Nothing,”
I groan, snatching up paint brushes.

               
“Yeah
right,” she hisses.
 
“What was his name
again?”

               
Sighing,
I say, “Jeremy, his name is Jeremy Stoll.”

               
“
Mhmm
, I bet you know nothing else about him.
 
Hard to do when you are paying him to be your
boyfriend.”

               
My
gaze turns to her.
 
“No money has ever
passed our hands.
 
Anyway, he isn’t my
boyfriend.”

               
“Yeah,
his name is probably not even Jeremy,” she laughs.

               
Angry,
I turn to her.
 
“His name is Jeremy
Stoll.
 
He is 21 and from Texas.
 
I don’t need to answer any of your
questions.
 
I didn’t pay him a damn
dime.
 
So keep your snarky comments to
yourself.”
            

               
Sonya
raises an eyebrow, “Well, well, well, someone has a backbone today.
 
It was a nice little touch yesterday when he
flicked us off.”

               
“Well,
isn’t that the normal good bye you get?” I snap harshly.

               
Now,
she sneers.
 
“When we never see him
again, because we all know you paid him, it will just prove me right.”

               
I
snatch the rest of the supplies, and mumble, “Whatever Sonya.”

               
“Is
there a problem here?” Our art teacher asks.

               
“No,”
Sonya giggles, batting her eyelashes.

               
He
turns to me, “
Isabelle,
is everything alright?”

               
“Yeah,”
I
reply,
turning and walking back to my seat.

               
At
least Sonya ignores me for the rest of the class.
 
Painting takes the annoyance away a little
bit.
 
When class ends, I quickly make my
way out of class.
 
I nearly run to my
locker.
 
The door sticks and I swear
softly to myself.
 
Suddenly, a hand
appears and pulls it open for me.
 
My
head turns to see Eric. “Thanks,” I squeak.

               
“These
lockers are way too old to be using,” he replies.

               
“Yeah,”
I say, just staring at him.

               
Eric
turns back to his locker and starts to put his books away.
 
I quickly do the same.
 
He slams his door and just nods at me.
 
I can’t even move.
 
He walks past me, and I can smell his
cologne.
 
Eric smells so good.

               
Suddenly,
I see Sonya coming down the hallway.
 
I
quickly grab my science book and backpack and make a bee line down the
hall.
 
I nearly sprint down the
steps.
 
When I make it to the sidewalk, I
walk as briskly as I can away from the school.
 
I think I hear my named called, but I, of course, ignore it.
 
I hear it called again, and it just makes me
walk faster.
 
All of sudden, my arm is
jerked on and I am forced to stop.
 
Spinning around, I am about to yell at Sonya, but instead I yelp.

               
Jeremy
sighs heavily.
 
“Are you deaf, or
ignoring me?”

               
“I
thought you were Sonya,” I reply.

               
“I
sound like a girl?” He gasps.

               
Shaking
my head, “No, I wasn’t even registering who was calling me.
 
What are you doing here?”
               

               
“I
thought I would give you a ride home,” he says, grinning.

               
I
look at him slightly dumbfounded.
 
“Why
in the world would you want to do that?”

               
“Well,
for that reason…...”
 
He turns and points
down the sidewalk.
 
Sonya is standing
there with her two sidekicks.
 
Jeremy
waves at them.
 
Sonya’s shocked facial
expression doesn’t change.
 
Turning back
to me, he says, “I want to help you.”

               
“Help
me do what?” I ask.

               
“Be
more confident,” he replies.
 
“You don’t
seem to be giving yourself enough credit; anyway, this should really boil that
girl’s blood.”

               
That
makes me laugh.
 
“If you do me a big
favor, I promise I will be your slave and clean your house.”

               
“You
don’t want to promise that.
 
I am a
single guy.
 
My apartment is atrocious,
but I will do you a favor.
 
What is it?”
He asks.

               
I
nudge my head in Sonya’s direction.
 
“Go
tell her I didn’t pay you, please.”

               
With
an appalled look on his face, Jeremy shouts, “She thinks you paid me for
yesterday!?”

               
“
Shhhh
,” I shush him.
 
“Don’t yell that.”

               
“Come
on,” he says, grabbing my hand.
 
Jeremy
drags me back up the sidewalk to Sonya.
 
“What is your problem?” He snaps.

               
Sonya’s
eyes enlarge.
 
“What?”

               
Jeremy
puts on that killer smile.
 
“She doesn’t
pay me.”

               
With
her eyebrow
raising
, she retorts, “Do you even know
her?”

               
“Yes,
I know where she lives, do you?”

               
“No,”
Sonya sneers.
 
“Why would I care?”

               
Crossing
his arms, Jeremy goes, “That’s what I keep asking.
 
We know each other.
 
Like I said, I keep asking her out, but she
says no.”

               
“Why?”
Jessica finally pipes in, looking at me.
 
“He is gorgeous.”

               
That
makes Jeremy wiggle his eyebrows.
 
“Thank
you.”

               
Jessica
smiles at him, trying to be seductive.
 
I
want to punch her in the face.
 
Not as
badly as I
do
Sonya, but I do nonetheless.
 
I feel Jeremy’s arm wrap around me.
 
Sonya squares her shoulders a little
bit.
 
“Where are you from?” She asks.

               
“Texas,”
he replies.

               
“How
old are you?”

               
Rolling
his eyes, he sighs, “21.”
  

               
“How
old is she?”

               
“18,”
he retorts.
 
“That is enough
questions.
 
We are going now.
 
You ladies have a wonderful day.”
 
Jeremy grabs my hand and we turn to walk to
his bike, which is sitting on the street.
 
When we are far enough away, he says, “Those girls are really annoying.”

               
“You
are telling me,” I sigh.
 
“Thanks so much
for defending me back there, but you don’t need to do this.”

               
Jeremy
smiles at me.
 
“Remember, you said you
would clean my apartment.”

               
I
burst out laughing.
 
“I did say that,
didn’t I?
 
Alright, I guess I have to
clean your place.”

               
“Not
today though,” Jeremy chuckles.
 
He hands
me his helmet, “Get on.”

               
“Don’t
you think you should be wearing one of these?” I ask.

               
Shrugging,
he says, “Yeah, there is one back at my place.
 
We can stop and get it.
 
Of
course, I don’t think you should be going to some strange guy’s apartment.”

               
“Are
you going to kill me, put me in a garbage bag and throw me away at the dump?”

               
He
snaps his fingers, “My plan foiled once again.
 
Get on, you can wait outside.”

               
With
a smile, I shove my book in my backpack and climb on.
 
He turns us around and speeds away down the
street.
 
I hope that he is a really good
driver.
 
When we start to cruise at a
normal speed, I sit up more and rest my hands on his sides.
 
This is actually fun.
 
We make our way through quiet streets and
then pull up to an old brick house.
 
When
he parks the bike, I hop off.
 
“You live
here?” I ask.

               
He
nods.
 
“Yup, top floor.
 
A little old lady lives downstairs.
 
I help with stuff and I get cheaper rent.”

               
“What
do you do?”

               
“What
do you mean?” He inquires.

               
Waving
my hand, I say, “For a job, what do you do?”

               
“I
work on motorcycles, down at Rick’s,” he replies.
 
“It isn’t full time, but it pays well
enough.”

               
I
nod my head.
 
“Cool.”

               
“Are
you going to wait down here?” He asks.

               
My
eyes get wide.
 
“Are you inviting me up?”

               
Laughing,
he shakes his head.
 
“Well, I wouldn’t
care, but to ease your mind, you can stay down here.”

               
“Okay,”
I awkwardly mumble.

               
He
jumps off the bike, and walks up to the steps leading upstairs.
 
Turning around, he yells, “Don’t go
anywhere.”

               
“I
wasn’t planning on it,” I shout back.
 
This is weird.
 
I should find this
weird.
 
I should find him weird, but he
is so nice.
 
Of course, I know nothing
about him.
 
He could be a mean, evil,
menace to society.
 
On second thought, a
bad boy sounds like fun.