The Art of Life

by Carter, Sarah

  “Well then, we need to get going,” Jeremy jovially shouts, as he stands up.

  He extends his hand out and I grab it. Getting up, I ask, “Where are we going now?”

  “We are going to celebrate your birthday.”

  I start to shake my head, and go, “No, no, no, that is not why I told you that!”

  “I know, but I am hungry and we are going to go have a birthday dinner. Everyone needs some sort of cake for their birthday. I will never bake for you because I can’t bake to save my life, but the restaurant will have cake. Come on, it will be fun,” Jeremy says, with his big, beautiful smile.

  “Okay, fine,” I reply. “I can pay for myself, though.”

  Jeremy scoffs. “Who pays for their own birthday dinner?”

  “You just met me, you sure don’t have to!”

  Looking at me with a very thoughtful look, Jeremy quietly says, “Let me do this.”

  The look in his eyes tells me not to argue. “Okay,” I whisper. He grabs my hand and pulls me back down the path.

  When we get to the bike he says, “You going to drive?”

  Gasping, I say, “No! I don’t even have my driver’s license! I can’t drive a motorcycle!”

  “Why don’t you have your driver’s license?”

  My gaze shoots out into the distance. “My mom never let me get it. I have studied and memorized the handbook, so I as soon as I graduate and get a real job. I am getting one.”

  “Why don’t you have a job right now? You could work at night or on the weekends.” Jeremy points out, as he pulls on his helmet.

  Taking a deep, depressed breath, I reply, “My mom needs a lot of help, and it is pretty much my responsibility to take care of her.”

  “Is she sick?” He asks, hesitantly.

  Snorting, I retort, “You could say that. I don’t really talk about my home life with anyone, no offense.”

  “No offense taken, I will get you your license before we are done, too. You are going to need that.”

  “You don’t have a car to teach me,” I point out.

  Getting a big grin on his face, Jeremy says, “Who says I don’t have a car?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see one at your house. Of course, I wasn’t really looking for one.”

  “It’s in the shop right now. Getting some kinks worked out. Now, get on the bike. I am really hungry.”

  I put the helmet and backpack on, and climb on the back. “Where are we going?”

  “Anything special you want?” He asks.

  “No, maybe a place not so popular. I like quieter restaurants.”

  Starting the bike, Jeremy nods his head, “Sounds good to me.”

  We drive through town, meandering through the streets. I am starting to think he has no idea where we are going. Finally, we pull up to a small building. “What is this place?”

  “It’s a little Mexican restaurant. They have the best burritos. Like the size of your head!”

  “Oh great,” I laugh. We walk inside and the smell of good food immediately hits me. It makes me stomach growl. Mom can fend for herself tonight. This is going to be great.

  Jeremy slides into one of the booths and I sit down opposite of him. A waitress comes up. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “A beer, please,” Jeremy says, handing over his ID.

  “Whatever diet cola you have for me,” I add in.

  The waitress nods her head and leaves. Jeremy looks over at me. “So, tomorrow’s Friday and I have to work all day, but Saturday and Sunday, I am free. Can we get started then?”

  “Sure,” I reply. “I don’t like to be home on the weekends anyway.”

  “I have some big plans for you, young lady. We have to start out slowly though. If we do everything at once, it’s going to be one of those cliché make over things. Oh look, she got everything done and now she is a new person. We will work things in slowly, so that you aren’t fodder for that chick.”

  Laughing, I say, “You have put some thought into this, haven’t you?”

  “I thought about a lot last night,” Jeremy replies, almost quietly. Quickly he changes the subject. “What kind of clothes do you want to wear?”

  “That’s the point. I don’t know! I don’t want to be outrageous or anything.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Jeremy sarcastically groans. “Fine, no skin tight leather dresses.”

  That makes me laugh, “No, sorry, no skin tight anything.”

  “Too bad, skin tight leather dresses are hot.” Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows.

  “I don’t think I could pull off hot, but normal is sufficient. I want to pull off normal.”

  Jeremy winks at me. “You will be hot. Trust me.”

  Now, my face has to be beat red. “I doubt that.”

  Suddenly, the waitress comes up. She sets down Jeremy’s beer and my drink. “What can I get you?”

  “Oh,” I squeak. “I haven’t even looked at the menu.”

  “That’s fine,” Jeremy interjects. “Do you eat beef?” I nod. He turns to the waitress. “Give us two number threes.”

  The waitress smiles and says, “I will put that right in.”

  Leaning forward, I ask, “What did you just order us?”

  “You will love it! Trust me. So, tell me about yourself. You won’t show me your art, but there has to be other stuff.”

  I bite my lip. Am I really going to do this? I haven’t ever done it before. Taking a deep breath, I reach into my backpack and take out my sketchbook. I hand it across the table. “You can look.”

  “Seriously?”

  Closing my eyes, I say, “Take it before I chicken out.”

  He snatches it out of my hand. Jeremy sets it on the table and opens the cover. I think I am going to throw up on the table; my stomach is in such a knot. “Isabelle,” he whispers. “These are amazing.”

  “Really?” I ask hesitantly. “You aren’t just saying that?”

  “No!” he softly exclaims. “You should go to art school. This is incredible. Look at the detail. You capture people. I mean, it’s like you see them, their personalities.” I watch him slowly go through the pages. “Okay, now that is the best one!”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah, I was a little agitated.”

  “But you pulled off the guillotine perfectly,” Jeremy chuckles. “The expression on Sonya’s face is also pretty accurate.” Suddenly, he flips to the last page. Oh no! I leap across the table and slam the book shut. Jeremy just laughs. He yanks the book out from under my hands. “Now, now, now, you have to let me see myself.”

  “No, please, I just did it last night. Please, oh this is so embarrassing.”

  He opens the book back up and looks at my sketch of him. “You make me look a lot better than I actually do.”

  “Jeremy, you are gorgeous. Don’t act like you don’t know that,” I snap playfully.

  Raising his eyebrow is the only response that I get. “Can I have this?”

  “What? Why would you want it?”

  “Because you drew it, and it’s great,” Jeremy replies.

  He actually wants it? “Sure, you can have it.”

  “Are you sure? You can always frame it and put it up in your room and gaze at it every night when you go to bed.” I burst out into giggles. He gets a shocked look on his face. “It’s not that funny.”

  “Oh, poor baby, I bet you already have girls pining away for you. You don’t need another one.”

  Getting a devious grin, Jeremy says, “You can never have too many female fans.”

  “Oh geez,” I groan, looking away.

  Suddenly, the door opens. I turn around to look. My heart drops. I quickly turn around and look out the window. Really, why does this always happen to me? I can see Jeremy staring at me. He looks at the people that just walked in and then back at me. “Isn’t that the guy from yesterday?” He asks.

  “Yes,” I hiss quietly. “His name is Eric.”

  “Why are we whispering?” Jeremy asks, leaning fo
rward.

  “Because,” I reply harshly, “I don’t want him to notice that I am here.”

  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, thank
s.”

  “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.

  Chapter 3

  I can’t help but smile all day. To say I am looking forward to the weekend is an understatement. Grabbing my books, I get ready to leave right from art class. It takes me a while to get to the bus, and then the grocery store and back home again. I slam my locker door and jump a little. Eric is standing there, staring at me. “Hi,” I say slowly.

  “Hey, your name is Isabelle right?”

  “Yeah,” I reply in shock.

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “I just thought I would say happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, that guy…” He starts.

  Suddenly, a voice yells, “Eric!” I close my eyes in defeat. Sonya comes over and puts her hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  Getting a perplexed look, he answers, “Talking to ummm…Isabelle.”

  Sonya’s eyes turn to me. To save myself some dignity, I mutter, “Bye,” and walk away. Seriously, that chick is grating on my last nerve. I just have to get through art. We are finishing our paintings and then I am free from my prison for a couple of days.

  To avoid another encounter with my demon-possessed tormenter, I grab my painting and art supplies, before I even sit down. When I get to my seat, I spread everything out onto the table. My eyes look down at my painting. It’s alright, just a simple lake scene. I am great at drawing, but only average at painting.

  Suddenly, the tell tale shadow passes over my desk again. “Soooo, Eric told me it was your birthday and you got sung to last night.”

  “Yup,” I reply, not even looking at her.

  Leaning forward on the front of the table, Sonya laughs. “How cute, are you five?”

  “That was all on Jeremy. It was his idea.”

  She taps her chin and draws out, “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy, oh, your pay-by-the-hour boyfriend.”

  “I must be rich, because I spend a lot of hours with him,” I retort, painting a line on the page.

  The bell rings and our teacher saves me by beginning the class right away. Sonya is forced to sit down. Good, at least I have a while to finish this project. After my teacher stops talking, everyone starts to work on their paintings, too. Thankfully, Sonya is a horrible artist and has a lot to finish on hers.