The Revolution of Art

Chapter I

 "Ms Lawson, could you give me a minute?" Professor Wright asked me, once the class was dismissed.

I nodded slowly, as the rest of them were urging through the door. I approached the teacher's desk with anxiety creeping up my spine. What is it this time? Have I killed someone? Have I done something?

I don't remember any of that, but then again – my blackouts do it every time, periods, places and things which I have no control over, and can't remember of.

Have I had another one of that?

"I'm glad you're somehow interested in the program, I actually wanted to pursue you into enrolling in."

I gulped down a bunch of anxiety. So I hadn't done anything. By the time I realised what he was talking about, loads came rushing back through my body.

"I don't think I could do it," my unsure voice trembled. "But I appreciate you trying." We both knew what he was trying. We both knew he knows. Because everyone does. But he's the one who's trying to make a change, and that's what startles me in front of him. He might be right, and I'm disappointed he saw the change in me even before I did.

With my last line, I was almost out the door.

"Ms Lawson," he called from behind. It was a demand – I had to stop; I had to turn around. His voice returned to its particular order, "Please consider it more thoughtfully. It's an opportunity."

I bit the inside of my lip and looked at him maybe too fearing. His face kept serious as he spoke next, tone even softer, "You're an amazing artist with a great mind. What you did, give up your dancing passion, has left you in bruises more than the actual circumstances for which you did it. Don't let it ruin you. Don't let anything change who you are."

Hearing him talk like that brought emotions in form of a knot in the middle of my throat. I chose to ignore it, and nod again, robotically, then walked out. Tears hadn't shown until I found myself safe to cry, away from his checking eyes and his worried intentions. I felt a metallic liquid inside my mouth and realised I have bit inside my flesh.

"Don't let it ruin you," he had told me. But I'm ruining myself.

"Don't let anything change who you are," But what if this is who I am?

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The rest of my periods starred boringly. I only sat and listened, mind wandering away, just as usual. But this time, the scene from Chemistry earlier this day was what kept me up in my own world. Mr Wright has told me to consider it properly, and I actually did – I actually am.

Jordan called me to meet up after school, so I couldn't pass by my house to take a shower and change, no matter how much I felt the urge to. I had to return his car, as he must need it for the day.

We met at a Starbucks around the corner of his house. I parked and spotted him inside, at a remote table in a corner.

"My back still pinches, you know," he greeted me.

I caught myself smiling. "Some boys get back scratches, you have back scalds."

"Life isn't fair," he shook his head dramatically. "Do you want anything?" he asked me, pointing towards the counter.

I didn't. "Actually, I would kill for a cigarette right now."

"Let's go."

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