"Do you want my mashed potatoes?" Parker's nose was wrinkled with disgust. It was lunch, and so far he has had EVERY one of my classes. To be exact, he is in all of them, since we eventually compared schedules.
"Can't you just leave me be during lunch?" I exclaimed through grit teeth.
"I don't know anyone here." He flashed me a grin, and I grimaced, taking his bowl from him.
"How can you not like mashed potatoes?" I asked, keeping my eyes down and avoiding eye contact.
"Carbs are nasty," he seethed in a joking way. He pinched his nose and made a gagging noise, causing giggles to burst from my chest. He smiled. "I knew it! I knew you knew how to smile!"
Silence followed as I stared at him. I let my smile falter back into my usual grimace. "It's not that hard to smile," I muttered, smashing my potatoes with my spork, causing it to snap. I swore under my breath.
"I think that's beside the point. You never smile. And I think those are already dead enough." His eyes landed on my bowl where the broken spork lay over my potatoes.
I sighed, tossing the bowl to the trashcan that a lunch lady had corralled through the cafeteria next to our booth. "Only one more class Jazzy," I whispered to myself as I swung my bag over my shoulder.
"Yup, and that's painting!" Parker chuckled as he followed behind me. We shuffled across the hall to Mrs. Lenner's art room.
She smiled as soon as she saw me, her teeth a bright white framed with bright red lips. With her arms wide, I let her pull me into an embrace. "How's my little flutter bird?" she simpered, and I could feel a hot tinge rising in my cheeks.
Parker raised an eyebrow at me.
"She's my aunt..." I said, trailing off.
He nodded once, understanding as he left me to be pestered by her once again, taking a seat near the back. He pointed to the seat next to him, and I rolled my eyes for an answer.
"Sweetie! How's my Freia?" I turned back to her shining face, only to see her face fall when I hesitated to answer.
"Is she still painting?" She tried again.
Still, I didn't give her an answer.
'Oh," she said, straightening. She composed herself back into her smiling self. "Okay then. That's alright. Go find your seat, flutter bird."
With my head bowed, I made my way to where Parker sat with a grin, setting my bag on the floor and taking a seat in the stool.
"So. You have a big family?" he asked.
I rubbed my eyes, cursing at myself for most likely ruining my makeup, then looked at him. "No. Most of them are dead."
His mouth fell, and he was soon silent.
I pulled out my sketch pad, grateful for the silence he has braced me with.
"Like Drake?" He asked. I looked at him, and his eyes were sincere and... sad.
I nodded. "Yes. Just like Drake."
The bell rang then, the class close to being full. Mrs. Lenner clapped her hands and dove into a speech that I doze out of. I thought of my dad, who kept wanting to contact me. It infuriated me that he was the one that left but still expects me to contact him. I also thought of my mom, how everyone is letting her waste away, but I'm the only one who refuses to let that happen.
"Jazmine?" A hand prodded at my shoulder, and I realized that I had crumpled the sheet of paper that Parker me. I looked up at him.
"Uhhh..." I trailed off, glancing back down at the wadded tree in my hand. I had no clue that I accidently let out my anger outside of my mind.
"It's okay," he chuckled. "I can get you another one."
I sighed as he sauntered back up to my aunt's desk. Words passed between them, and Parker jerked his thumb in my direction. Helen, which was Mrs. Lenner's real name, nodded at him and handed him another sheet.
He was smiling as he walked back to our table, sliding the sheet over to me. He said nothing, which surprised me.
My gaze went to the water colors that were spread out on our table, our first project being a memory that we see as hazy. Almost like we know it's there but it just doesn't
seem like it. I instantly knew what I was doing, and my hand flew to the paintbrushes, grabbing a finely tipped one.
It was a mask of colors, ranging from bronze to yellow to the crisp golden that you see in sunflowers. Streaks of brown were brushed on top in a craze of untamed wisps. Underneath, two burning emerald orbs stared back at me.
Sure enough, when I sat back to examine my artwork, it was a haze. I sighed, adding some sporadic flashes of pink and lavender.
"Is it your mom?"
I turned to see Helen. She crouched down next to me, almost effortless despite her tight mini skirt. She met my gaze with a sympathetic smile. "Hon, I know your mother is going through a tough time right now." She squeezed my hand. "If you want... you could always come live with me and your Uncle Tommy."
"And leave my mother?" I said a bit too harshly. Eyes whipped around from students in the class to stare at us before continuing their work.
"Jazmine," she whispered in an exasperated tone. "I don't know if your mother is ever going to get better. She is too hung over the fact that Drake is dead."
She said it so matter of fact that I didn't think twice before my hand flew across her face with a smack. Horror struck her face as her hand covered the area of where I hit her.
She looked distraught, and I couldn't blame her. "Outside to the hallway. Now," she forced out. She sat back at her desk, her face covered by her manicured hands. With one last glance at Parker, I slipped out into the hallway...
