Only For You

1

Miguel Hernandez

Friday, January 20th

Second semester, halfway through senior year.

My 5th period is now Art History and Creation with Mrs. Gant?

I search the art wing for her classroom, number 201, and spot it on the left side.

Once I get into the class, I take a look around. There's the basic vinyl flooring with white brick walls. Not the bricks you can feel the rough texture on, but the one's that have plaster over it, smoothing it out.

Mrs. Gant has works of Claude Monet, Georgia O'Keeffe, Diego Rivera, Alma Thomas and more.

Nice.

I actually enjoy art. I was bummed that I didn't sign up for last semester, but I wanted to do graphic design instead.

Mrs. Gant has puffy red hair with freckles and fair skin. Her glasses are blue which compliment her skin in a way. She reminds me of Mrs. Frizzle.

''You guys can have a seat where ever you'd like,'' she says. Her smile is friendly and inviting.

I walk over to the far right corner of the classroom and take a seat. She's got these little stools with vibrant colors on them. While more students come in, she greets them.

As the class gets fuller, the noise swells. Though I am a quieter person, I do enjoy background noise. Its comforting.

I was doodling on my paper until I heard someone sit next to me. I look up and see a girl I don't recognize, so I keep doodling. Not being intentionally rude, but I'm not too well at starting conversations.

Mrs. Gant begins to tell us about herself. From what I retained, she seems pretty interesting, although I wasn't entirely listening.

"She's had artwork in a museum...?" The girl next mutters to herself.

"Jus' crazy," I slightly laugh.

''What are you drawing?'' The girl asks, shifting her gaze to my notebook.

I look up at her, fully inspecting her face. She looks kind of familiar but I don't bother going into that thought. I've probably just seen her around in the halls.

''Oh, just some houses,'' I respond.

I look back at my paper and start shading them. I can see her squinting at me in the corner of my eye, but once again I don't pay any mind.

"You into architecture? Cause' I find that shit so cool, She says.

"Yea... I think that's what imma major in," I nod.

"Nice. What's your name? Sorry, shoulda asked you that first," she asks.

"Miguel," I say.

"You are like... scarily familiar. I thought you were new this year, though," she furrows her brows.

I look back at her in confusion. Maybe she knows me, but I'm entirely not sure if I know her. Unfortunately, I have a tendency of forgetting things, especially names and people.

"How'd you know? I just transferred back to this school district from another school near here. I used to go to this school district until after 6th grade," I explain.

"Oh..." she laughs. "Everyone called you the new kid, so yeah. And you said you went here until after 6th? Did you have Mr. Davis for math? Cause if so, I think that's where I remember you from," she asks.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Now that I think about it, we used to talk a lot in class, huh? And at lunch too." I nod.

"A wholeeee lot," she laughs.