Painted Smiles [completed]

A Recollection

A/N: 1k reads??? Shoot. That's still crazy to me. P.S. The quote up above isn't from Shakespeare. True English geeks will know that.

Looking back is always so strange. Reminiscing about who was and who could be. I can vaguely remember a year ago, but every memory builds a wall in my mind. Sometimes, the wall is thin. Sometimes, the wall is unbreakable. However, it's always made out of wood.

My relationship with Kathleen has been nothing but good. I've grown close to her parents, dogs, and even a few of her friends.

December 14-18

School has been going well. Compared to society's standards, I'm doing absolutely perfect. My grades are above average, I'm not having frequent panic attacks, and I have a decent amount of friends. I'm even close friends with numerous teachers! By my parents' standards, and by mine, I'm not doing so great.

Imagine, just imagine, that an A- would get you admonished. Every time the subject of grades comes up, I have to explain to my parents that I'm trying as hard as I can to get a good grade in math, but it never seems enough.

Not even the countless, sleepless nights are vindication for the issues that have arisen. It feels like hell is just casually following behind me.

"Hey! Are you alright? Can I help?"

I feel like hell is much more comforting than most people are. I don't mean to romanticize the subject, but what is a hopeless romantic without hopelessness?

I got through the academic week, but it was rough. There is no way I improved my grade in math from the test on Friday, but I'm crossing my fingers.

I got through the social week a lot better. After Tuesday, when Kathleen skipped half of her chemistry class to hang out with me, I started walking her to her locker and onward.

Her locker was near Mr. St. Ann's room, which was always a look back into the past. I could hear his deep voice and see his raggedy hair whenever I turned that corner. It was a shame, truly, that I didn't have him anymore.

Her chemistry teacher, however, was what I was most interested in. Hedging. Of course. Kathleen had to have Ms. Hedging as her teacher.

Thankfully, I never had to make eye contact with that stupid adult. Sorry, stupid isn't the right word . . . Perhaps asinine?

One day, after school, I headed over to her room. I breathed in the smell of chemicals (she was most likely doing a lab that day) and sat down at a random desk.

"What're you doing here?" She asked and poked her head up from behind a table. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but her clothing was loose and baggy.

There was no casual way to say it. "Do you know Kathleen? From your first hour?"

She paused. For a moment, she was unresponsive. Then, her eyebrows furrowed and she stood up. Her bony hands plucked the goggles from her eyes. "Yeah, I know her." Again, she paused. "Why?"

It was risky, but I went for it. "How is she?"

"She doesn't do much. She struggles, y'know, because she's new to the school." Hedging threw her goggles halfway across the room, into a bucket. "Still, she's average. She skips a lot, but I don't mind. She still learns enough to get by."

December 19

My friends are strange, as they are well known for being, but my group of friends is even weirder. My 'squad' consists of Sasha, Gretchen, Hope, Pavi, Chloe, and now Chelsea.

We all decided to do secret Santa for Christmas, but we obviously had to change the rules to make it fun. Instead of simply drawing names and getting gifts, we decided to use our fandoms and obsessions to our advantage. I drew Chloe, and I managed to buy her two Ruby Rose shirts, and Gretchen drew me. She bought me a Lady Gaga sweater, and I was ecstatic to have it!