What If

26

"Take a seat, Ms. Smith..."

Mr. Stephens voice was low as usual. As he extend a hand on a chair at his front.

I slowly sat down never leaving my eyes to the person who was sitting across mine.

"What's wrong? Have I done something, sir?" I softly voiced out. I don't want to be so negative but this situation freaks me a little bit.

"Your grades are high, Ms. Smith. And I'm afraid both of you were competing for being the valedictorian.. And since your seniors, I have to give you a tedius task to break this through. Fair and challenging.." The principal emphasizes the last words.

I stared hard at him. And to the person who's face turns sour upon hearing the news.

"Thank you so much, sir. I just worked hard for it. And I'll do my best to be on top.." I said feeling so grateful. I know I deserve this.

"And so am I.." The person across me directly said.

"Of course, Ryell! Certainly, you must.." I wink at him mockingly.

So this was the issue. He's freaking out because his valedictory place is in danger. That's why he tried to talk to me earlier.

He glared hard at me. And I equalled his with a side smirk. No way I'm gonna back off. Valedictorian was my greatest dream!

"And that's why I called both of you.. To discuss something. This maybe hard but I need to know who is the best.." Again he emphasizes the word "best". And I gave him a polite nod. I watch Ryell's serious expression as he caught me looking at him.

"Okay.." Mr. Stephens cleard his throat as if preparing for a long speech. "I have once given this challenge last year. But they all failed. And I believe you two up for the match." He slowly walks towards the paintings hanged on the wall.

The paintings were extra ordinary. Some dark and light shades being mixed and the shapes were contoured I can't quite figure out. Maybe because I'm not an artist type.

"These paintings were made by one person. He was a graduate here at Hershey. He studied his high school here but not a single person knew who he really was. Your task is to convince him to let you write his auto biography. And since you were both a member of writers association in our school, you already know what to do.." He stated completely. Returning to his seat.

I glance at the paintings once again. And then to our principal. And even catch a glimpse of Ryell's stunned expression. Judging by the way he looked, it's very obvious that he already knew who's the unknown painter.

But why the hell Mr. Stephens wants his auto biography? There were lots of well-known painters that we can do research and need not to compromise our life to bug an unknown random painter.

I don't study painting nor have a better understanding about it. But I do appreciate it because it is also art. I happen to adore MichaelAngelo or Leonardo da Vinci. Their works were really fantastic!

But I don't think I could ever understand or appreciate paintings like these. It looks like a drawing of a three year old child who just learned how to hold a pen. Lines were every where. And dark colors dominated the entire pieces. Seems like the one painting these was out of his mind.

"Let me guess, Jennifer..you were having a hard time analizing what the hell of a work is this, right? I knew you never knows a thing about abstract painting.." The annoying Ryell was then back again.

I roll my eyes at him and began staring at the wierd paintings. Whatever the heck it was called, it's not pretty anyway. I always preferred paintings like a beautiful garden or a stream or a forest. Everything that's so easy to understand. Not like this mysterious paintings that gave me a full headache.

"No need to learn about painting, Ms. Smith. Don't stess yourself on that matter. I just need a literary work. His autobiography. No more no less. And by the way, to prove to me that it's not fake, I need his signature at the bottom of your work." The principal interrupted my deep thoughts.

"What's so special with this one sir? Is he old and dying that's why he must let us write his life?" I was so confused.

And the laughter of Ryell echoed through the room. What the hell?

"I was so damn right! You don't really know paintings, Jenny. " He was still laughing that the moisture began forming on his eyes.

When I look at the principal, he was also smiling. Obviously, amused.

"He's not dying and of course he's not old, Ms. Smith. Infact, he's just a nineteen year old teenager. And he's name is Mark Simons.."

I almost fall out of my chair when I heard the name. Well, I knew that Mark is a painter but not to the extent that the principal of Hershey High school wanted to have his autobiography. That's just too good to be true! Surely, he's not just any ordinary painter.

"You mean Mark Simons, the rude and arrogant cousin of Mr. Macolle, sir?" My voice was edgy and jittery.

They both turn their glances towards me. Maybe shocked that I happen to know the man whom they adored so much. And the man who unfortunately, happens to be my first kiss!

"So you already meet him, I see.." Mr. Stephens stated. He looks amused. While he clasp both his hands on the table.

And when I look at Ryell, he was looking down to his lap. Clearly annoyed.

"Unfortunately, sir.." I said full of bitterness.

Everything thats happening seems like a whirwind. I dont know how to deal with a man as unpredictable as Mark Simons. His temper and his attitude. Where as bad as his dirty mouth.