Supernova | ✓

chapter seven

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chapter seven

Since I knew that Blue didn't notice the distance between us last night, I did something I never thought I'd do. I moved my easel a little closer to him, not enough that would shock everyone around me but enough to satisfy the fact that carving to try and get closer to another human being. And as I sat my canvas down I couldn't help but push my pieces of hair behind my ears again. I gnawed on my lip and fiddled with my fingers before playing with my shirt that I was wearing. We had a substitute teacher today and he had said that art wasn't his thing, which in return sent me rolling my eyes but knowing that Mrs. Baggins finding a substitute that would actually enjoy art was a rarity and that was enough for me to sigh as the substitute sat down at Mrs. Baggins desk and bring out a book that he was reading. It was a Stephen King book, and I cringed my nose back. I never cared for horror books, I was often into adventure books.

I sat down on my stool and flickered my eyes across the canvas in front of me. Outside the sun shimmered high, the early autumn air still having a tinge of warmth to it. I knew that before long I would have to wear hoodies outside and go onto the field.

I wondered if Blue would continue coming out to the field, and if he secretly wanted someone to look at the stars with him. I knew nothing about the boy, and no one else did. None of the teachers supplied any information and no one asked him about him. It was almost as though they knew that if they asked him about it, he would probably glare at them and they'd walk away awkwardly. And they knew that if they would ask me I would bite the corner of my lip and play with my fingers before spinning on my heel and walking away.

I got up from my spot on my stool and headed over to the cubbies, which were in the back of the classroom. I passed by Blue, and didn't look at his canvas. I knew that it would be out of line, and even though he could see my canvas I didn't care. Everyone knew that my paintings were of the galaxy or had the colors that reminded me of the galaxy.

I opened my messenger bag and brought my iPod before spinning on my heel and heading back to my easel. Sitting down I turned on my iPod and brought up my Spotify before clicking on one of the Indie stations. I let the music swiftly move thought my mind, and I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to live these stories that these artist sang.

I opened my eyes a moment later and brought up my paint brush. With my music making me feel as though someone understood me, I began to paint, knowing that I needed this distraction. With the silence around me, it would be violent.