The Annoying Dreamer and the Artistic Doubter

Chapter 5

"You came?"

His face looked completely fine, but with a bandage around the back of his neck. "Yeah, I wanted to see you again."

"But you look fine!"

"Oh that? You know how boxers put jelly on their face so that they're good at taking hits? It's like that except I use a crap ton of lotion and neutrogena," clenching his cheeks. "Take enough martial classes to reduce the impact of hits, and in terms of high school combat drama, I can recover from almost anything. Keegal's still a monster though," rubbing the left side of his face.

Thank goodness. "I didn't do much to help though."

He snickered. "That's a lie. You're one of the few people not older than us that's ever stepped up to Keegal! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have survived that!"

"Oh," spinning her finger on her cheek. "Sometimes you just wanna help, but you never know what to do."

He blew off. "That's my problem with everyone here. Unless you're older, these guys don't care who gets hurt as long as it's not them. And if one target is out of the way, they'll find someone else. They want a villain, and I can't just fight them head on."

"That's why you're always taunting and teasing them?"

"It's a bit more than that. You remember what Ms. Dresden and Faherty told us, right?"

She nodded.

"It goes a bit more than that. A bunch of people inside and outside of school think and say that kids our age and gen are stupid, idiotic, can't do anything without tech, and are lazy. A lot of people didn't do so good last year," pointing to the list in front the hallway of the entrance. His name was in the middle of the honor roll, with only about five others.

"That number's pretty low."

"It's not all doom and gloom. Most people scored between 65 and 80, but sophomore's years are supposed to be the year we get it together because colleges are gonna be looking down on our results during junior year. This is our last chance to fix it while enjoying school. If we can improve our morale, ethic, kindness, we could prove those old farts wrong."

He sounds like mija, he's not wrong, "but aren't you taking school too seriously?"

"Camila. We kinda have too. We spend most of our lives here. Why should we have to go somewhere all the time if it makes us feel miserable?"

That cut through her memories.

"Why is it everyday you all keep making me do worse things?"

"They called us again?"

"Camila, I love you, but be lucky that the cop is a nice person. I don't wanna see you behind bars."

She sighed in the present.

"Well, that's why I'm here. But you hate it here too, right?"

"Honestly, not really."

"But, yesterday?"

"Well it's a love-hate relationship. These are the best teachers I've had. People can't get away with stuff like they did in middle school anymore. And there's so many cool opportunities I could never try anywhere else. And my only friends are here. I want to make every day worth living through. I just want to make it fun along the way."

"Even yesterday?"

He took off his glasses, brushing off his eyes.

"All that good came from being around you. So I'll make sure every day you're here is worth it," shining hard enough the light from his face and words reached her heart.

Heat spread across the bottom half of her face, almost dropping the sketchbook he caught, spotting the completed drawing of her riding his spirit through the halls, and another one of them watching cartoonish bobbleheads of their peers throwing food at each other.

"You finished two in one night? That's super cool! Hey, what's the word for super in Spanish?"

"Super, the same."

"Hmm, then I'll call you super pelirroja, a perfect name for a pretty redhead."

Flustered, she waved off the name. "I'm not that good though."

"Neither am I, but we can be, right?"

She closed her eyes, accepting he could be right, and nodded.

"But one thing, I don't want you getting in fights. Principal D said not to get influenced or manipulated."

"But if I don't fight back, I'm just letting them win."

"That's not what I mean. If they're trying to bring you down, you just have to keep pushing higher. Silas, what's your dream anyway?"

"I...I don't have one. At all."

"But you called yourself the Knight of Dreams."

"Cuz I love thinking and creating. I just don't know what to do with that as a career. I'm trying to figure that out. Someone like you already has a passion for art. I didn't grow up with the funds or time to do stuff like that or what others are doing: streaming, making videos, I just got a brain I like to use a lot. I'm not like you at all."

"Don't say that," lifting his lowering head back up. "You're a smart guy. My dad is really the only one who's believed in me, or likes my art. Without him, I'd probably stop drawing, and that's the only thing that keeps me happy. You'll figure out a way to turn your dreams into a goal."

"Outside of making it to Magna Cum Laude, you think so?"

"Yeah."

His heart grew warmer the more he saw her face.

"Alright, I'll try."

"And don't diss so much. The harder you work, won't it encourage everyone else to try harder?"

"Or make them jealous."

"Then Silas, I'll believe in you if you believe in me. We have to start somewhere, right?"

He thought about it, daydreaming about the two of them battling through whatever came their way, and grinned once he came to a conclusion.

"Sure, I'd love that."

The two shook on it, not realizing it was the start of their hearts on the start of their artistic, and romantic endeavors.