The Art of Life (6 page)

               
Jeremy
gets a dumbfounded look on his face.
 
Suddenly, his eyes hone in on me.
 
“You like him, don’t you?”

               
“Shut
up!” I exclaim.
 
Okay, that may have been
too loud, because Eric looks over at us.
 
Oh, I am going to die now.

               
Trying
not to laugh, Jeremy softly says, “Just act normal, or you are going to make it
really obvious.”

               
“That
is easier said than done,” I retort.
 
“I
can’t function when he is around.”

 
              
Getting up, Jeremy slides into
the booth next to me.
 
I scoot over.
 
“Here, this way you don’t even have to see
him.”

               
“Thank
you,” I sigh.

               
“Why
don’t you talk to him?” Jeremy asks.

               
With
a groan, I reply, “I have.
 
He doesn’t
usually respond.”

               
“Well,
that’s kind of a jerky thing to do, and you like this guy?”

               
I
can feel my face heat up.
 
“Yes, don’t
ask me why, but I do.”

               
“We
have a new goal then,” Jeremy snickers.
 
He leans back and puts his arm around me.

               
“What
are you doing?”

               
Jeremy
smiles, “Getting him to notice you.”

               
“I
don’t want that,” I moan.

               
Leaning
over he says, “Yes, you do.
 
Trust me on
this.”
 
Against my better judgment, I let
my eyes wander over to Eric.
 
He is
staring right at us.
 
I quickly look
away.
 
“You need to
relax,” Jeremy chuckles.

               
“Shut…up!”
 
Jeremy
reaches over the table and grabs my sketchbook.
 
“Please put that away,” I snap.

               
“Seriously?
 
He is
going to see from all the way across the restaurant?
 
R-E-L-A-X.”
 
He opens the sketch book to the
beginning.
 
“You are great at portraits.
 
I wish I had your talent.
 
I have no artistic talent whatsoever.
 
I can dismantle a bike and put it back
together again, but can’t draw a stick person.”

               
Getting
sidetracked, I say, “It’s not that hard for me.
 
I started drawing when I was younger to escape my life.
 
You know, make up worlds where things went
right.
 
My teacher in middle school saw I
had talent.
 
I would go after school and
he would help me, and give me pointers.”

               
“You
should go to art school,” Jeremy urges.
 
“Seriously, you could get scholarships.”

               
“That
is what my current art teacher keeps saying,” I sigh.
 
“He even gave me applications, but I can’t
think about college.”

               
Shaking
his head, Jeremy asks, “Why?”

               
“My
life isn’t conducive to college.
 
I plan
on it, just not right now.”

               
 
With his eyes staring straight at me, Jeremy
says, “Don’t let anything get in your way.
 
Go for it.
 
You have only one
life, you need to live it.”

               
“That
is a general theme for you isn’t it?” I ask.

               
The
waitress suddenly appears, and Jeremy seems to ignore me.
 
“This is great!” He shouts.

               
I
look down at my plate and then at him.
 
“Jeremy, we could have shared a plate.”

               
“Speak
for
yourself
,” he says, grabbing his silverware.
 
“I can eat all of this easily.”

               
“I
would throw up,” I reply.

               
“Do
you need anything else?” The waitress asks.

               
Jeremy
smirks.
 
“Es
su
cumpleaños
.
 
Por
favor,
traiga
su
torta
.”

               
Smiling back, the waitress nods and walks away.
 
I look at Jeremy.
 
“What did you say?”

               
“Nothing,”
he replies, taking a bite of food.

               
“I
didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” I say, as I unroll my silverware.

               
With
a snort, Jeremy chuckles.
 
“We don’t know
much about each other yet.”

               
“True.”
 
I eat some of my food.
 
“Oh
my gosh
,” I
exclaim.
 
“This is so good.”

               
“Told you so.”

               
I
happily eat my food.
 
This is fun.
 
I haven’t had fun in a long, long time, not
with someone else.
 
Jeremy keeps giving
me looks out of the corner of his eyes.
 
Finally, I laugh.
 
“What?”

               
“Nothing,”
he retorts.
 
“I am just glad to see you
having a good time.
 
This is for your
birthday after all.”

               
Putting
my fork down, I say, “Thank you, I really appreciate this.”

               
“Oh,
you may not appreciate it in about five seconds.”

               
“What, why?”
I snap.

               
Suddenly,
there is guitar playing and people singing.
 
NO! NO! NO!
 
A group of restaurant
employees come over and start serenading me.
 
I punch Jeremy as hard as I can in the arm.
 
This just sends him into hysterics.
 
I place my face in my hands.
 
I want to die, please, just let me die.
 
They go on for a while, and then finally
end.
 
The waitress sets a big piece of
cake down on the table.
 
It has a single
lit candle on it.
 

               
“Make
a wish,” Jeremy whispers.

               
My
eyes drift over to Eric.
 
He is clapping
with everyone else.
 
Closing my eyes, I
blow out the candle.
 
Well, I did want to
celebrate my birthday, right?

               
We
finish eating, which entails Jeremy eating all his food, then some of my food
and then about 99% of the cake.
 
I look
at him.
 
“How in the world can you eat
all that, and not be fat?”

               
“I
go running every night,” he replies.

               
“I
think I would fall on my face, if I went jogging,” I state matter-of-factly.

               
Rolling
his eyes, Jeremy says, “I doubt it.
 
Come
on, we should get you home.”

               
“Yeah,
I actually have homework to do.”

               
With
a big sigh, Jeremy goes, “I DO NOT miss homework.”

               
“I
get straight A’s and I want to keep that up,” I reply, as I follow him out of
the booth.

               
Jeremy
reaches over and grabs my back pack and bike helmet.
 
He slides the helmet on my head.
 
“Well then, we will get you home.”

               
I
laugh, and put the backpack on.
 
He grabs
his helmet.
 
I let my gaze wander over to
Eric.
 
He sees me looking at him.
  
Eric gives me a little wave.
 
As my eyes get huge, Jeremy slides the visor
down on my helmet.
 
I awkwardly wave
back.
 
To cut me off, Jeremy slides his
arm around me and leads me outside.

               
When
we get outside, I slide the visor back up and exclaim, “He waved at me!”

               
“Yup,”
Jeremy says, getting on the bike.
 
“He
actually paid attention to you.
 
Yippee.”

               
“Hey,”
I snap, climbing on behind him.
 
“That is
a lot.”

               
Turning
around to look at me, Jeremy says, “When he has a normal conversation with you,
then you can be happy.”

               
“Now,
that would be awesome,” I giggle.

               
Jeremy
just rolls his eyes.
 
“Let’s get you
home.”

               
He
pulls up to my house and I see my mom’s car parked in the driveway.
 
I jump off and practically shout, “You should
go now.”

               
“You
really are worried about me seeing you at home, aren’t you?”

               
“Nobody
should see my home life,” I respond.
 
“I
don’t want to see my home life.”

               
Sitting
up more, Jeremy says, “It’s not going to scare me.”

               
“Please,
just go, before I get into trouble.”
 
I
hand him the bike helmet.
 

               
Jeremy
puts his hand up.
 
“Keep it for now.
 
I will pick you up on Saturday.
 
Say around noon, is that alright?”

               
“Yeah,
sounds great,” I reply.
 
Pointing to the
house, I say, “I should go in.”

               
“Okay,
night girlie.
 
I will see you this
weekend.”

               
“Sounds
good,” I say, smiling.

               
He
winks and then turns his bike around, heading down the street.
 
I watch him go.
 
I don’t even think of my mother when I walk
in the house.
 
I just sprint up to my
room.
 
Shoving the helmet in my closet, I
know my mom won’t see it there.
 
After a
few minutes, I creep downstairs, waiting for the yelling to start.
 

               
I
find my mom in the kitchen.
 
“Where have
you been?” She asks, quietly.

               
“Went
out to dinner with a friend,” I reply.

               
She
turns and looks at me with sad eyes.
 
“A friend?
 
That’s
good.”

               
Oh
boy, we are lucid and sad tonight.
 
It’s
times like these that I feel bad for her.
 
I sit down.
 
“You okay mom?”

               
“Just
having a bad night, I am going to bed now.
 
I will see you tomorrow.”

               
“Yeah,
I am going to take the bus and
go grocery
shopping
after school.”

               
She
looks at me.
 
“Okay, thanks.”

               
“No
problem,” I whisper, as she stands up to leave.
 
“Sleep well.”

               
My
mom nods.
 
I watch her go and sigh.
 
My life is so messed up.