The Giving Project

☠Part 1-Centuries☠

☠Part 1-Centuries☠

"Passion, Passion and Passion is all you need for art so every single one of you beautiful souls will pick up that paint brush and draw."

My art teacher goes on and on about passion every single lesson, I kinda feel sorry for her because everyone has headphones in and is not listening to a word she is saying. We kind of stopped listening after freshman year.

"Nina, put your volume down I'm sure everyone in Seattle can hear your music."

"Well Natalie, dear I really don't care because if everyone can hear it they will realise my great taste in music."

"Really? you have terrible taste in music."

"You're parents have terrible taste in condoms."

I bicker back and forth with my best friend who seems to disapprove of everything, even my taste in music. Ignoring her while she gushes about Brian - her boyfriend. I start doodling on my canvas. The harsh droplets of rain fall on the school roof as I stare at the blank canvas

Well, I guess I didn't introduce myself. I'm Nina Marie Gomez and I'm currently sitting in art class tuning out my passionate art teacher, and annoying yet beautiful best friend basically talking bullshit.

As soon as the deafening sound of the bell goes of every senior rushes out for their life - its actually quite entertaining to watch. I turn to Natalie with a sly smirk, she knows I'm running to The Coffee House for my daily dose. I sound like a druggy. But maybe I am if coffee is considered a drug. She rolls her eyes dramatically and I run out obviously ignoring the huge crowd in the hallway.

When I finally reach Coffee house, I join the long line. I don't think I need to tell you that. I gape at the pale grey tiles waiting patiently for my coffee, but when I look up the long line seems longer and the mass of people increased. I didn't know I was out of it for that long.

When its finally my turn the lanky boy at the counter greets me with a goofy smile. He's blonde hair flipped back messily and his white shirt stained with coffee. Same old, same old.

"Hey Nina, your usual?"

"You know me too well, Stiles."

I move to the other side of the counter and watch as the costumers pick up their hot substances. 1,2 and 3. I'm always number 3. Always. Picking up the steaming hot cup, I place it between my lips - it burns my tongue but I'm to busy thinking. I can almost feel her presence in the crowded shop. Vivian.

I seem happy and sometime I am, but then I remember her and how she left me. I miss her. Its been 4 years but it feels like centuries.

But its a new start. I'm going to win that competition for the children at Safe room. I'm going to help people battle cancer. I will win The Giving Project.