The Girl That Got Away

Paint Me

My birthday, it was almost my birthday. Not that I like my birthday. It's typically kinda dull. Rory and Mom go all out and all and invite Stars Hollow, and I usually get lost in the shuffle.

Now I'm sitting in English, some lady going over some poet and I really don't give a damn, I've read this before. Rory used to read out loud like some broken record. The day simply could not end any faster. As the clock ticked away, I found myself drifting into a daydream, wishing I could be anywhere else but in that dreary classroom.

The sweet sound of freedom finally rang, signaling the end of another day at school. Students eagerly rushed out to their lockers to grab their belongings while I made a beeline towards the art room. My sketchbook was calling out to me, begging to be taken home where I could continue to pour my creativity onto its pages. Miss Henry, our art teacher, had been encouraging me to take my paintings home for weeks now, insisting that they deserved to be seen outside of the classroom. Despite her unwavering support, I couldn't shake the feeling that my artistic skills hadn't improved much over time.

Miss Henry greeted me warmly as I finally arrived at the classroom, out of breath from running. The sunlight streaming in through the large windows had created a picturesque setting for our art session earlier, casting a warm glow over the room.

"Chrissy! It's good to see you," Miss Henry exclaimed cheerfully, her infectious smile lighting up her face. Her long red hair was pulled back into a messy bun on the top of her head, adding to her artistic and carefree aura. "Don't forget to grab your dried paintings before you head home," she reminded me, gesturing towards the corner of the room where our completed works were displayed.

I grabbed the few mediocre canvases I had managed to paint. Most were of the random objects we were told to paint. I stopped and grabbed the sketchbook I had easily filled up with sketches and doodles. Placing the stack under my arm, I felt a surge of pride as I headed for the door. "Chrissy. Before you go," she called out, her voice stopping me in my tracks. "I was looking through your sketchbook, and I'm really impressed," she said, her words filling me with a sense of validation and encouragement.

"What do you want to do, Chrissy? When you graduate? You seem to focus a lot on clothing!" She looked quizical. I sewed, my mother taught me, and I enjoyed sketching them as well.

"I'm not sure. I like art, love it in fact. I've never thought about clothes, I just like drawing them. " As I pondered her question, I realized that my passion for sketching clothing designs stemmed from the creative outlet it provided me. I found joy in bringing my ideas to life on paper, exploring different styles and patterns. I'd never considered a career in fashion. Maybe I could.

"I could see about setting something up, I think you would be great!" I smiled and nodded before finally exiting the room.

_______________________________________

She invited the school. It seems like she invited the entire school. Emily had refused to relinquish Friday and instead through both of us, mostly Rory, a huge party. She had also invited Chilton students.

I stood the side eating some fancy food and leaning against the wall. People who recognized wished happy birthdays while passing by, and eventually, a few girls from the art club had gathered.

We spoke for a bit before eventually parting ways. I walked around, sort of bored before running into Richard. "Ah, Chrissy, are you enjoying your party?" I nodded and thanked him. A guy carrying a tray offered some colorful blob.

I grabbed one as well as Richared before the man walked away. "Do you know what this is?" I asked him. He laughed and shook his head, "I have no idea, here, cheers."

We dinked our little treats before eating them. Terrible, gross, horrendous, eewwww. It was terrible, but I managed to swallow it and keep my composure.

"That was awful," Richard said. I met his eyes, and we both burst out laughing. The moment was sweet, and I ended up talking to him about a bunch of random topics.

"Chrissy," a voice said, his blue eyes boring into my soul. His smile was wide, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Daniel, hi. I didn't know you were here. I would have said hello earlier, " I said. He shook his head and handed me a large wrapped present with a big red bow.

"Happy Birthday," he said. I thanked him. "This is my grandfather, Richard," I said, introducing the man to my side. They shook hands, and Richard seemed to recognize him.

"Your father runs a law firm, correct. William Letter?" He asked, and the boy nodded, and the two broke out into conversation.

"Oooo, a lot of paper," the voice of my mother rang in my ear.

"What's behind the paper?"

"Would you stop poking my shoulder,"

"But there's a big bow on it,"

"Mom, stop."

"It's shiny!"

"It's from a friend,"

"Open it,"

I sighed and ripped the present open, now gaining the attention of my lingering grandmother and sister. The paper peeled back to reveal a very familiar canvas. Oil paint blended beautifully, my face against a field of flowers.

"Whoah, you've been painted," said my mother.

Rory looked shocked.

Emily praised the boy at what a great gift it was.

And I just stood there.

"Thank you"