In the Stroke of Time ( Preview )

Chapter 1
Jeanette

The brush hits the paper. I feel the bristles rub against the textured surface. I create a long streak that crosses the whole sheet. Lifting the brush off the paper, I dip it into a rouge and add blush to the creature I have developed. With no guide lines, I have no limits to what this imaginary person will look like. He could have long, flowing golden locks or short and silky chocolate brown curls. His skin is fair with the slightest bit of stubble on his chin. His eyes are luminous in the erie moon light that I dabbed onto the paper. The light makes his crystal blue eyes shimmer even more. He stares out the window as if he is longing for someone outside on the dark, dreary night. The piece is almost completed. I add one more highlight to his plump lips and put the brush back into my water dish. I step back and look at what I have painted.
Satisfied with the finished product, I leave the room and go into the bathroom. I stare into the mirror and take note of what I look like. My skin, like my painting, is fair with a slight blush. My eyes shine with the same intensity are my painted prince. They are a hazel brown with small flecks of green spread throughout. My under eye area and nose are sprinkled with small freckles that make my chubby cheeks look even more childish then they are. At the age of 16, I am still mistaken to be 12. My locks are a deep brown and they reach to the middle of my back. It flows down over my shoulders in a thick sheet that is unruly and difficult to contain. I turn from the mirror and head back to the room that holds my painting. I lye on the bed and stare at the ceiling until I doze off into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning is average. I wake up groggy and tried from the little amount of sleep I received the night before. I stumble into the bathroom and brush my frizzy hair and clean my straight teeth. I throw on the outfit I layer out the night before and head down the stairs to collect my items. Rushing out the door, I hurry to the bus and jump on right before it drives off.

First period is as quiet as it usually is. Nothing is heard except the occasional snore from the tried students who are trying to get one more minute of sleep before the bell rings. People are alarmed when the high pitched buzz of the bell sounds across the school. Mr. Hall stands up from his desk to allow entry to the late student at the door. His name is quite ironic since he never leaves his desk to enter the hall. Many claim he hasn't ever left the room. The door creaks and he tugs on the knob.
A male student rushes in with a start and finds a seat not to far from me. I never look up to see what he looks like. I am always sketching in my book before class really starts.
"Our new student has decided to make quite the entrance hasn't he class?" Mr. Hall says in a sarcastic tone. As usual no one responds to anything he says.
"I am so sorry I didn't know which direction to go to get here and I found the class after the bell rang!" the new student answers frantically.
"Don't start to make excuses already Mr. Jansen, I don't have time for that. Why don't you state you name for the class?"
"Hello, my name is Roman. I am a junior this year."
"Now that everyone have been introduced to our new fellow learner, let's start today's lesson."
Mr. Hall starts his daily rant about the unwillingness of the students at this school. He goes on about how no one cares about geometry anymore, but I am too distracted by the name I just heard spoken by the new kid. It is the exact name that I was contemplating on titling my masterpiece I just finished last night. ( There is no way this has anything to do with it. Maybe it is just a coincidence?) I lift my head from my page and slowly turn my head to look at him, making sure I don't get caught staring. As my eyes settle on this features, I can't help but turn my whole head towards him.
He is the spitting image of my painting from the day before. He has the exact same crystal blue eyes and chocolatey short hair as my character. I stare for way too long and he can feel my presence. He turns his head to look at me. When his shimmering eyes meet mine, he can't pull away either. He seems to be having the same sensation as I am. I see the thought of familiarity flash in his eyes. Somehow he recognizes me from some where. I feel a touch of pink rising to my cheeks and he continues to look at my face. He suddenly has the same rouge cover his face and he quickly turns away. I just sit there in a daze, completely unable to focus on my education anymore. Before I know it the bell rings and I have missed the whole lesson.
"Don't forget to complete questions 1 through 10 on page 573 in your textbooks for tomorrow's class!" Mr. Hall shouts out as a sea of people rush out of his room. I hurry off to the restroom and check myself in the mirror. My whole face is pink and it is slowly turning back to its normal shade of fleshy pink. I cup my hands under the running faucet and rub some refreshing water into my pores. After I pat my face off and take a few breathes to calm myself I step out of the bathroom. Leaning against the wall outside is Roman.
My face instantly goes red and all my water splashing has gone to waste. He realizes my presence and turn towards me with a gorgeous smile.
"Hey do I know you from anywhere? You look so familiar to me," he ask with wonder in his eyes. I instantly reply "No, I don't th-think so," trying to hide me secret and my answer comes off as suspicious. "Right... Well I am Roman and your name is?"
"Jeanette!" I respond like it is a life or death situation. He laughs nervously and runs his flawless hand on the back of his beautifully structured head. "Very nice to meet you Jeanette. Maybe, since you seem to not know me, we can learn a little about each other during lunch."
"Sure! That would be great! I-I have head to my next class, see you then!" I came off extremely strong.
I am not completely sure what just occurred but, I have this weird sensation. No one has ever showed such kindness and expressed such interest in me before. I can't seem to handle the way this feels. I feel the impulse to hug him and run from him at the same time and I am not sure how to react to this situation. Whatever is happening, I know that this somehow was meant to happen. My life has taken a turn today and there is no going back after I have tasted the sensation of admiration for another human. I will now crave it and need it to survive.

Lunch couldn't have come any slower today. I am just sweating thinking about what is soon to come. I am going to meet up with Roman during lunch and I can't tell if I feel like crying or laughing. This is such a peculiar situation for the girl who has always sat by herself everyday and has had very little interaction with other students. My tray of slop is already in my hand and I am charging towards my table, as usual it is empty. On other days, only my stuff lyes on the seat, but today there is another bag next to mine.
This bag only deepens the fear I feel at that moment and makes me want to turn and find a new table. But I push myself forward, even though I struggle to breath. I take my seat and start to eat my mediocre lunch that just leaves my stomach feeling more empty. I finish fast before he even gets here and steal my sketchbook out of the pocket on the side of my bag. I begin to sketch someone across the room and I sense another human approaching.
"Hey there Jeanette! Already finished your lunch? You must be some kind of competitive eater or something!" Roman exclaims and he sets his tray down and takes a seat is his chair. He slouches in his seat as if he is comfortable around me, while my back is as stiff as a board. I look at his sharp jaw line and follow it down the shape of his neck to the tip of his middle finger. He would be a perfect live model for an artist to draw, as in me.
"Hello? Are you going to answer?"
"S-sorry! No I am not a competitive eater."
"Your nervous am I right?"
"..... N-no......"
"Stop trying to hide it. I can see a flashing sign above your head telling me how nervous you are." Suddenly more aware of my posture and speech, I try to relax a little more, even though I know it won't work.
"Look, all I want to do is get to know you. No need to built a wall between us." His words sooth me somehow, and I let my guard down.
"So, what are doing with and notebook?"
"It's not really a 'notebook', it's a sketchbook."
"My bad. Can I see it?" Roman reaches for it and his finger tips graze the top of my knuckles. I go rigid again and immediately pull the pad of paper to my chest. I remember the sketches of him in my book from last night. It was my study for my painting. I can't let him see it, he will think I stalk him and draw him!
"No! ..... I mean..... It's kind of private, I don't like sharing it."
He stares at me with skeptical eyes and then proceeds to say, "Yeah, I understand. I guess it is basically like your diary. It must be pretty special." He looks saddened by my rejection, so I quickly pull out my phone and open up my photos instead.
"I have some pictures of some of my work on my phone. Do you want to see?"
He perks up at that statement and grabs my phone to look. I see his eyes grow wider as he scrolls through.
"You painted these pictures!"
"Yeah."
"These are the most beautiful works of art I have every seen!"
My whole body heats up and I am red from head to toe at this point. Roman states at me and starts to blush himself at the sight of my reaction. I am so embarrassed in this moment.
I just hide my face with my hand and grab the phone. I pick up my stuff and shuffle out of the lynch room door. I hear his foot steps behind me and feel his hand wrap around my small wrist. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that." I only pull my hand slowly out of his grip and walk even faster out of the cafeteria. I hang my head down low and avert my eyes from the crowd of people staring at us now. I don't know if I can handle any kind of situation like this. Maybe I will just lock myself in my room and paint pictures of him for company instead. I can't take this. I am not cut out for human interaction.

To be continued......