paint me like one of your french girls (gxg)

what it means to be a woman

Mayson

After 2 bus rides and some walking, I'm finally at the school. I was breathing heavily, the black sweater I wore doing little to help my breathing.

Since I'd didn't have a car, I had to carry the 4 paintings from the bus stop to the school which is an aching 5 miles. Needless to say I'm beyond exhausted and ready to go home.

I walked into the school, heading for the commons area where students were already set up, their families waiting off to the side. The middle of the room had rows and rows of tables, each of them having a student and piece of art. The crowd all gathered on the outskirts of the commons, waiting for the gallery to start. Looks like I got here just in time, I thought as I made my way to the table with my name on it. It was in the back corner, furthest from the door as I chose that spot on purpose. Attention was never really my thing.

I set my paintings down neatly on the table, each of them having a protective cover draped over. After I was finished setting up, I looked around for a familiar, feisty blonde. I was scanning the crowd of people when a voice pulled me from my search, "I thought for a second, you were gonna be a no show." I looked down to see my art teacher to my side, "Ouch, you think so low of me." I feigned being hurt.

Ms. Frazier chuckled, "You're always late to my class, excuse me for thinking the worst.

"I wouldn't think of it as late." I scoffed, "Think of it as dramatic effect." I grinned.

Ms. Frazier shook her head, "Just take the cover off your paintings Mayson so we can get started." She said with a hint of amusement.

"Yes ma'am." I saluted then turned around to take off the sheets. When I did, I heard a sharp gasp from behind me.

I turned around to see Ms. Frazier with a hand over her mouth, and tears in her eyes, "Uh you good there, Ms Frazier?" I asked, awkwardly patting her back.

"Mayson this— these are..." She sputtered.

"You like them?" I smiled.

"Like them? I— this is one of the most beautiful pieces of art I have ever seen." She shook her head.

"Aw shucks." I blushed slightly, "You're getting sappy on me now Frazier." I teased.

She chuckled slightly, wiping her tears, "You have a gift Mayson. You may be hard-headed but you have an extraordinary gift." She sniffed.

"Thank you?" I said acknowledging the back-handed compliment.

"You're welcome, now shut up so I can start this thing." She grumbled.

"I didn't even say anything—" I furrowed my eyebrows but she walked away before I can could finish my sentence. She stood on a chair in the center of the room, everyone quieting down when they saw the lady.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Lincoln Prep Art Gallery..." Ms. Frazier started before my ears drowned her out. I wasn't really paying attention as I was too busy looking for Paris. I scanned the crowd over and over again, section by section, coming up short when I didn't see her. She must be hiding so no one sees her, I thought, trying to stay hopeful. Her mom has a light leash around her and I wouldn't doubt that some of these parents here are her friends that would rat out Paris at any second.