Her Paper Cranes

Chapter 1

"Slowly, understand? Don't rush into getting things done. Look closely at the details. Got it?" Mrs. Hoover, our boring art teacher, drawls. In response, she gets a variation of lazy yes's.

I don't remember picking Art class for this year's 1st semester. It wasn't even in any of my options of electives. I sucked at art. And being part of the "in-group", I had a reputation to keep. I was good at everything, and for some reason I just couldn't draw a damn good picture.

I've tried getting out of it a hundred times. I went to the main office every single day, and insisted on transferring to any class, as long as it had nothing to do with art. I even went to my guidance counselor, who secretly thought I was good-looking (trust me, I just know), and was turned down countless times. "Sorry, honey. There are no other slots," was what I'd always get as a response. Over and over.

Goodbye, reputation. Goodbye, popularity. Goodbye, last year of having an awesome high school life. So long, good days. I'll miss you.

Okay, maybe I was over exaggerating just a little bit. Oh alright, maybe a lot.

But I was thankful that some people from the In-group didn't know how to draw that much either. By some people, I meant the people I was sitting with in art class at this moment. But I had an image to keep: the cool, good-looking dude who was capable of doing anything.

Except draw.

What did I expect? Sooner or later this one fault of mine would eventually get discovered. So much for those 3 years of avoiding anything to do with art.

"Mr. McNightley," Mrs. Hoover's voice snaps me out of my misery. "I see that you haven't started anything at all." She gestures to my empty sketch paper.

I look up at her and see her upside down wrinkly face. I give her a lazy grin then shrug my shoulders.

She frowns, making her wrinkles even more visible. "I don't care if you're not that good at drawing. At least you're friends are trying."

I sigh loudly, making my friends laugh silently.

Mrs. Hoover sighs as well, clearly on the verge of giving up on me. "Stop spacing out, Christian. Work on it!" Then she disappears to a different table.

When she was out of hearing range, my friends laugh out loud.

"She's aging rapidly because of you, Chris." Courtney, with her long blonde hair and constant flirty expression, comments.

I snort then say, "Who cares about that?"

Austin, Courtney's boyfriend, snickers. "Yeah, you should care more about getting that thing done." He points to my paper that was still blank.

Jace, an energetic and goofy guy but still a good friend, announces, "Looks like Christian, the guy who was thought to be capable of anything, isn't capable of drawing!" He nudges my shoulder playfully.

"Shut up," I push his elbow away then laugh. Just to make it seem like I didn't really care. But in fact, I did. A lot.

"Looks like he's human after all," Austin smirks.

I shrug then glance at the middle table filled with random stuff from Mrs. Hoover's closet. We were supposed to draw a still life picture, but how in the world was I supposed to start?

I was thankful though that these guys sucked at art too. Thank the Lord I wasn't the only one.

I decided to start with the chicken. I started out real nice and slow like what Mrs. Hoover said, but when I stopped to see how well I've done, Courtney interjects, "Is that supposed to be a chicken?"