Sinking

anticipation

The days leading up to the meeting at the school, my emotions were overwhelmed by a fear filled anticipation.

I spent the weekend brainstorming, deciding that even if I hadn't been to the meeting yet, I should attempt to be as prepared as possible as early as possible. Even at my job, I let PJ and Phil do most of the work; they didn't mind. They both knew how important this was. I wanted my pieces to tell a story. I knew most of the kids going were probably snotty, although that's just how I labeled the entire human race, but I figured most of them would focus purely on talent. I figured it depended on whoever's decision it was, of course, but I hoped that the people viewing our art were intelligent people who knew of the multiple layers of art; not just what seemed to be talent.

I wanted to use color, of course, but I didn't know if I also wanted to have black and white in it. Maybe I wanted to continue on with this color in a colorless world theme my schoolwork had been following. I really had no idea.

It had to be my best work yet.

Phil returned to school on Monday, much to the joy of all of our friends, since everyone loved Phil. He'd missed a lot of school, but due to the first semester being finished, he already had the needed credits to graduate. The only classes he had now were English, video design, and art, and those were for fun. Art class with him didn't consist of much art being done; it was full of him trying to give me ideas and me shooting them down because they didn't give me the inspiration I needed.

By Tuesday, I seemed on the verge of having a heart attack any second for that entire day. I had to leave school early in order to have time to walk to the bus stop and take the route that would get me to the town so far away in time.

"Do you want me to come with?" Phil asked as I packed up my stuff, noticing how anxious I was. His blue eyes furrowed in the slightest worry, but I shook my head.

"No," I replied, "I'll make it. I'll be home by seven, at the latest, okay? Love you," I pecked him on the cheek as I hurriedly made my way out of the classroom and down the hall. I went the opposite route of that leading to my house, walking on the street that lead to the bookstore instead. The bus stop was deep in town, and I hadn't been there in years; this was because I never really went anywhere.

I tried focusing on the sky and the buildings and the imperfections on bricks and any people that may have been walking in town, although not many. I was looking for inspiration, but there wasn't enough time for me to actually catch anything in my gaze. I didn't want to be late to the bus.

Thankfully, I made it to the stop before the time I needed to. I sat down on the bench by the streetlight, leaning against the cold metal and letting my eyes roam. The only people I saw were a mother and her child walking two buildings away and a teenager walking towards me.

I didn't look as the person sat down on the bench next to me; I figured they were waiting for the bus as well.

"Good afternoon," The person said and I turned to find a girl, my age, smiling at me. She had curly brown hair down to near her shoulders covered with a red beanie and she had a kind face. "Waiting for the bus as well, then?"

I nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"Don't drive? Me neither. This place is small enough I can just walk. What's your name? I'm Sophie." She pushed her hand towards me.

I took it and shook. "Dan," I answered, a bit exasperated by how friendly she was being. I appreciated it, though; I just never was used to new people.

"Where are you headed?" She asked.

"The art school, about two hours away."

Sophie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What a coincidence, I am too! You must be the kid from the school in this area. I live here, too, but I take the bus to a school further away. I don't know why, really, but it works for me." When I said nothing, she continued. "You are going to the meeting for the scholarship, right?"