The Art of Life

by Carter, Sarah

  “Oh yeah,” I grumble to myself.

  “What?” My mom growls.

  Taking a deep breath, I say, “Nothing.” She turns and storms out of the room. When dinner is ready, I take mine and eat it upstairs. My room has a lock on it. Thank god.

  By the time I actually want to venture downstairs I find my mom passed out on the couch. Sighing, I take her shoes off and swing her legs up, as I always do. Taking the little blanket, I cover her up. This is ridiculous. I should have been taken away and put into foster care a long time ago, but I think that would be a lot worse than this. Once I graduate from high school, I am getting a real job, and getting out of here. College is out of the question for now. I plan to go, but moving out takes priority. I want to see how well she does, when she is alone and can’t use me to cook and clean and do the laundry.

  At ten, I slam down on my bed. The events of today keep running through my head. It was awesome, but tomorrow will over shadow it all. It’s going to be hell. Maybe I should just skip school. That won’t solve anything though, they will just make more fun of me the next day. Great, I love my life.

  Chapter 2

  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?�
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  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.

  I shift my weight and look around the neighborhood. It’s nice, quiet. A girl I knew in elementary school lived near here, one of the last friends that I had. She moved away in middle school. I have a few people at school that I consider my friends, but I keep to myself for the most part. My mom is a huge hindrance. You add in my oddities and we have a problem.

  “Hey,” I hear shouted next to me. I jump and see Jeremy.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” I yell.

  He just laughs. “Awesome!” Pulling on the other helmet, he says, “Where do you want to go?”

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask hesitantly.

  Jeremy stops and tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean……look at you and then take a good look at me. Guys like you, don’t hang out with girls like me.”

  Rolling his eyes, he moans, “Get on the bike. I want to take you someplace.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” I state, not putting on the helmet.

  “I will answer your question when we get where we are going,” he replies, climbing onto the bike. Turning, he pats the seat on the back. “Come on.”

  Against my better judgment, I get on the bike. “Where are we going?”

  “You will see,” he says, as he revs the engine. We take off quickly, and I squeak a little.

  I watch as we head down one of the old highways. Jeremy turns left down a dirt road, and now we are in the middle of nowhere. Great, I am going to die. I just got on a bike, with a stranger, and am now in the woods. I am so going to die. Hopefully, it’s quick.

  We make it to a dead end, and Jeremy stops the bike. “We need to walk the rest of the way,” he turns and says.

  “Are these my last steps? I mean, do you have an axe hidden somewhere in the woods?”

  That makes him burst out laughing. “Listen, I don’t plan on harming you. If you feel uncomfortable, I can take you home.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “No, no, I am fine. Lead on.”

  He puts the bike on its kick stand and puts the helmet on the seat. “Gently, put the helmet on the ground and come with me.”

  “Alright,” I reply. I lay the helmet carefully down and walk over to him. He nudges his head. I stupidly start to follow him down a path. We walk in silence for a while. “Where are we going?”

  “You are impatient aren’t you?” He chuckles. “We are almost there.”

  Suddenly, the path leads into a small clearing. The river runs straight through it. It’s gorgeous, and I say as much. “This place is beautiful.”

  “I thought so,” he replies. “When I am bored, I randomly drive down roads. You would be surprised on what you come across.”

  “This is cool,” I state. Jeremy walks over and sits down on the grass. “Why did you bring me here?”

  Shrugging, he says, “Why not?”

  I walk over and sit down opposite him. I take my backpack off, setting it on my lap. “I feel like I am in a movie or something.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I stare at him for a minute. “Really? You are asking me that?” He just looks at me with a perfect smile. “You said you were going to answer my question.”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I? You want to know what I am doing.”

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” I reply.

  With his pretty brown eyes, he looks at me. “You remind me of someone that I was really close to, and I want to help you.”

  “I think I am beyond help,” I state.

  “What is your problem with yourself? You seem like a great person.”

  Groaning, I say, “I have more awkward issues than normal people.”

  “Let me help with that,” Jeremy retorts.

  My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. “How are you going to help me?”

  “What do you want your life to be like?” He asks.

  That makes me think for a minute. I sigh. “I wish I had more friends. I wish that I at least looked like a normal girl. There are a lot of things that I wish.”

  “Well, those things I can help with.”

  Looking at him, I ask, “How?”

  “You will just have to trust me, okay?” Jeremy replies, with a big grin.

  “Why should I?” I ask.

  “What in the world do you have to lose?” He retorts.

  With a little bit of a scowl, I say, “Nothing, really.”

  “Good, we will get started right now. Tell me about yourself.”

  What do I say to that? “I keep to myself. I have a really crappy home life, which I will not get into.”

  “What do you like doing?”

  “Drawing, I am an aspiring artist, I guess you could say,” I whisper. Yanking my bag from me, he jumps up. I quickly follow.

  He spins out of the way and opens it up. “Aha! Just as I suspected, a sketch book.”

  “Give it to me,” I cry. “Please! No one has ever looked at that!”

  Turning back to me, he says, “You have never shown anyone your work?”

  “No,” I snap, grabbing my bag back. “The only art anyone sees is in class, which I would say that is my reprieve from school, but Sonya is in the class too. She pays more attention to making my life hell, than to class.”

  “What hour is that?” He asks.

  I take a deep breath. “Last period, which starts the beginning of my stellar evenings.”

  Jeremy looks at me. “You make your life sound like it sucks.”

  “It does. It sucks really bad,” I groan, plopping myself back down on the ground. “You have no idea.”

  “I will give you this advice. Appreciate life, you only have one.”

  Looking up at him, “Can I have somebody else’s?

  He snorts. “I am going to make sure you want yours.”

  “I am so ridiculously pathetic,” I sigh. “I can’t even talk to boys. Of course, I have never tried.”

  “Why not?”

  Now, he has to be stupid. “I look horrible.”

  “I don’t think you look horrible,” Jeremy replies, sitting back down in front of me.

  “Then you shouldn’t be driving us anywhere, because you are blind.”

  Jeremy falls over laughing. He lies down and puts his arms behind his head. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you need to give yourself more credit. If you want to look different, then make some changes.”

  “That’s the thing,” I sigh. “I have no idea what to do.
I couldn’t tell you how to do my hair, or how to dress. Do you see what I am wearing?”

  “Yes,” Jeremy says, “I think you have your own sense of style.”

  “Yeah, if you like people who dress blindly in the dark.”

  Staring up at the sky, Jeremy sighs. “You are going to be a lot of work.”

  “I do not need to be your charity case,” I snap.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, calm down. I meant, boosting your self esteem. You need to see what I see.”

  Crossing my arms, I sarcastically ask. “And what do you see?”

  “This great girl who seems to be a nice person. I don’t think you need to do anything with yourself, but if you want to, I will help.”

  “Okay,” I grumble. “I can’t believe I am doing this.” There is a pause as we stare off into the distance. “Honestly, the one thing I want most of all, is to stop being picked on. I always thought if I took all the bad things away, they would just leave me alone.”

  Jeremy sits up and looks at me. “I promise Sonya will not pick on you anymore when I am done.”

  “How are you going to guarantee that?” I ask.

  “Just trust me. Anyway, I heard some great advice once. High school sucks. It’s hard. But, it is only four years of your life. When you are a teenager that is a lot, but when you graduate and you are no longer in high school, you will rarely have to see those people ever again. You can do whatever you want. You can move somewhere else. It is four years, just four. Once they are done, a whole new world opens and you don’t have to remember or think about high school if you don’t want to.”

  Trying not to smile, I say, “I only have a year left, and I just turned 18. So, I guess I won’t have to wait that long.”

  “When was your birthday?”

  “Not last Saturday, but the one before that,” I sigh. “I hate my birthday though.”

  With a tilt of his head, Jeremy asks, “Why?”

  “I haven’t done anything for my birthday since I was 8. My mom sometimes remembers, but for the most part forgets, or doesn’t care. So, this year, I didn’t have a single person even remember my birthday, except for my art teacher. He gave me a new set of charcoal pencils, really nice ones.”