To Love A Broken Heart

Chapter 3

Maia's POV

I could hear Dylan and Ms. Manson talking in the background as I guided my pencil across the paper. Giving the image the right curves and angles it needed. I was drawing just a simple flower. A flower from an image I saw of my mom a few years ago. A light pink flower and a few petals. Like it was wilting away, but yet it was still so beautiful. I've had that image in my head ever since I've seen it. I don't know why today I decided to draw the flower. Maybe one day, I could hold a flower like that of my own, put it in my hair and smile at someone like she was. "That doesn't look like me".

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I placed my pencil down and came face to face with Dylan. His hair was wet, and his face was meer inches away from mine. "It's not supposed to be you. It's a flower".

"Right, I see that, but how come you're not drawing me? I mean there had to be something you see about me. Past my good looks that is".

"Cocky now aren't we"? He stepped back and shrugged.

"Someone here has to be confident".

"Right. For your information. I'm not drawing you, simply because I don't want to waste my good pencils and paper on that ugly mug". The corner of my lips curled up in victory.

"Oh. You've hurt me". He placed his hand on his chest in face pain. "I don't think I can make it through life now, knowing that you are immune to my good looks".

"Great. Now maybe you'll leave me alone"? I asked him. Hoping that he would, but deep down knowing he wouldn't.

"Not a chance Angel".

I pointed a finger at him. "Don't-".

The bell rang interrupting me. "Don't leave you? Wish I couldn't, but I have to go to class. See you later". He walked past me and to the threshold of the door, before stopping and turning back to me. "Angel". He winked and walked off.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my paper, picking up my pencil. "Well someone has an admirer".

Ms. Manson leaned against the table observing me and looking at my drawing. "Lucky me". I rolled my eyes as I thought back to Dylan.

So far the traits I would describe him with, is cocky, arrogant, nosey, dumb, and a pain in my ass. "You know. He really was interested in your art earlier".

I put my pencil back down and looked at her. "Your joking right? All he's done since I've met him this morning is criticize it".

"I'm not joking. I watched him this morning as he looked at your piece of me, almost like he was in a trance. He thinks your work is amazing". She pushed off the table and moved around the table so she was next to me. "For the criticism part, I think he's just not used to your work. It's different from others. But in a good way".

I watched her pit off in the corner as she looked over my current project. "Now what made you draw this. This is beautiful, so many possibilities for coloring. I think you should make each petal a different color".

"That would be beautiful. I'll just have to see where my heart leads me". She moved her gaze away from the drawing and placed her eyes on me.

"How are you doing, and don't give me that. I'm fine BS. You know you can tell me the truth".

I let out a deep breath of air. "I don't know. Next appointment is on Wednesday, so I wont be in class that day. I know everything will be fine. It'll be like that last appointment, a checkup, but something telling me, It'll be different and that something will go wrong, which I know it won't, but...". I trailed off and looked away from her.