- three.
Beautiful Stranger
ᴸᵃᵘᶠᵉʸ
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⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Tap. Tap. Tap...
My fingers sound against the table. The virtual classroom is cold, maybe the only classroom that is relatively nice here since everything else is fans spinning and spreading hot fucking breeze.
I hate this place. I hate this God fucking country, I swear if hell exists, it's right under this cursed, fucked up, asswipe of a country. I hate it. I missed New York and I hate him. Well...not him.
There he is, the boy with the droopy eyes and glasses.
He called us into a meeting. Paula and I complained all the way here and I was having second thoughts about this whole teaching thing. A long, skinny, know-it-all professor giving commends, rambling about how the education system has failed us and other artists, for we don't know our own folklore and traditions, and how he's an advocate for the uprise of art and how we should all be knowledgeable and return to our roots and yadda yadda yadda yadda.
I get it, I do. He has a point. But it's 1:00 and it's hot and I have Academic Orientation class next and the thought of it makes me want to shoot myself.
What the fuck.
So guy with glasses is supposed to monitor...all the art groups. I'm pissed off, yet excited. I don't think I want to teach, no. But everyone is talking about what their field is and they're all so passionate about it and I'm so jealous that my section is not nearly as committed as these randoms are.
One guy writes poetry and the other composes, this one crafts, and the other one plays guitar, and hey! That's that famous TikToker's twin sister and she's an illustrator!
It's lame but I'm geeky and finally, I feel like I could fit in somewhere.
He says his name. Christian. Chris. He goes around asking everyone's names and what they'd like to teach. And he gets to me. Our eyes lock and I have to say, I like them. They're droopy. They look a bit sad but his face says otherwise. Well, he does look stressed maybe. He pushes his glasses back up. It's cute. Dorky.
"Marie"
"Excuse me?"
"M.A.R.I.E. Marie. I want to teach basic drawing"
"Sketching?"
"You could say that, yes"
He looks up at me fully, resting his chin on his palm. His full lips tug up into a little smile and interest is noticeable in his eyes.
"I'm interested. I'd go to your class"
I smile. He huffs and leans back.
"I'm serious, I want to get better at drawing. What days are you available?"
"Mondays and Fridays I've no class. Wednesdays only one"
"Woah, two free days? Are you guys new?"
He asks with a raised brow. Paula and I nod.
"But I live far away, so coming all the way here for one class would be inconvenient"
"Then what about Wednesdays?"
"Maybe. But I've work"
"Work?"
"Mhm"
"Doing what?"
"Teaching English"
His droopy eyes light up again and I'm confused at how suddenly smiley he seems. He puts his pen down and his eyes are set on mine. What is it? It's intriguing but when his smile widens and he looks like he's taken a breath of fresh air, I'm still wondering what the fuck is so funny and why he grins like that. Although I'm not necessarily complaining, I do like his eyes and I'm taken aback, taken back to when his chin was at my knee's level and that single speckle of sun moved up from his cheek to his iris and turned his eye from that dark brown to a light hazel. What a sight to see, frankly. And what a thing to remember in public while I'm supposed to be enrolling in something I'm not entirely sure about.
Here come the second thoughts and my ears get warmer. But I wear my embarrassment nicely.
"Where do you teach?"
"Embassy's Institute"
"No way. I teach English, too"
His smile is so dorky and sweet as his glasses lower to the bridge of his nose when he looks at me and suddenly I feel strange.
When I went home, I was once again sprawled on the rug, pocky in between my teeth, I told Mom excitedly I was in the art club, but she was indifferent and nonchalant as always. Now that's disheartening. She approves of my art but has never been the most cheerful about it. Don't think that's relevant anymore.
I should do my homework but I'm thinking about how I smiled when I left that meeting. I told Paula: "He's kinda..." Then said nothing else. He's magnetic. in the sense that!... he's intriguing. It's sweet. Pretty eyes.
So I do my homework. Half-assed, maybe. I withdrew biology because it was driving me abso-fucking-lutely insane and I was gonna shoot the professor or myself. Like have you ever dealt with someone who thinks fear is a teaching strategy? Yeah, fuck that. I went to Melanie's campus. S'huge. Rich people shit but Melanie isn't rich, she's just a genius and fucking lucky. Her boyfriend pisses me off but he makes her happy I guess, so who am I to oppose.
But Melanie has been in college since like September and we haven't been seeing each other much. Shit has also shifted slightly since the graduation party argument. That's a whole other story.
The last time I was on her campus, a.k.a rich kid territory, I saw Camille. It's been forever since I've seen her and she's still the same sweetheart I fell in love with when I was 13. I've moved on since then, but Camille was also my best friend before she was my girl. I missed her, and I remember how nice it is to have a good friend.
And maybe that's why I suck at making friends, like good friends. I fall in love in just three nights and then I pour my heart out and then I fuck up and it goes to shit. Will I date all of my friends?
Boo, you whore.
But maybe I should get a friend to survive college. Paula straight up ignores me, and so does Danielle. The other two are stuck-ups who are dumbasses with sass and I don't like being friends with basic people with a lack of authenticity, then Emily is cool but she's a bit reserved and Christian is not even a frequent but also, he's too tempting.
It's more deliberate than that. It's recognition of what we really are. Ghosts. They do see me, and I see them.
