Chapter 5: Tardy for Arty

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wassssuuupppp! Hey readerss!! :D I'm so glad that you're reading my book XD, that is if you still interested :P, but U just wanted to tell you HAPPY NEW YEAR and I received good exam grades and am pursuing sixth form and so that might limit my upload time, (but I'll try my best to sneak on here to write) ;)
Tehe *^.^, well enough of me, I present the 5th chapt ENJOY! >>

Copyright © 2013 Queanna Julien. All Rights Reserved.

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Chapter 5: Tardy for Arty

All of the students heads swivelled to look at me, I tried my best to stay calm, and the teacher in front of me wasn't so happy to greet me. She looked about late forties, you could tell by the scattered grey hairs on her head and her make up a bit caked on her face. Her brown eyes soft but looked like she could take down someone twice her size. All in all she was a bit intimidating, despite the fact that I was towering over her short tanned structure.

"You have a name?" she asked with a strict tone. Weren't Art teachers supposed to be all hippie and airie faerie?

"Quinn, Quinn Port," is stutterted a bit, but managed to keep a straight face, "I'm new?" coming out more sounding like a question.

"Are you asking or stating the obvious?" she said. The whole class erupted in laughter. Great, my first day and already making a fool of myself with the Rich Reggies. There weren't much students in this class, maybe about ten or eleven, but still feeling embarrassed, I sunk my head.

The teacher chuckled, "Dear, don't worry I'm Mrs. Hildred, and welcome to Art class, " then she turned to the class, "Everyone this Quinn"

"Hi Quinn!" they all chorused.

"Hi," I waved smiling feeling a bit less tense.

"You can have a seat with Tara over there on the left," she pointed, "OK chop chop!" she clapped.

I sat myself at an easel next to a girl with red hair, she must be Tara.

I gave her a weak smile, which she returned with her own set of pearly whites. Maybe this day would be so bad after all, I thought to myself.

Mildred started demonstrating some techniques about strokes and contouring the face, something with which I was very familiar. It was then I finally relaxed myself into my chair and inhaled insanely deep to shake away the last of my first day jitters and took the moment to take a look around the little room.

I located the supplies and old portraited art pieces from past students' projects, mannequins, paints, pastels, clay sculptures and many, many knives hung up on a wall.

Although I knew they were craft knives, it shook me a bit. I diverted my attention back to Mildred, to listen to the rest of her rant about cheekbones.

The bell rung to indicate the end of the first two periods and I scribbled down my homework into my journal and piled into the corridor with the rest of the school population to head to my next class, in room 22, Irish .

After asking several students for directions, I finally found room 22.

I heaved my bag towards the room and walked through the doubled doors, which were about seven feet tall and embellished in beautiful Celtic designs.

I couldnt help but run my hands over it in admiration. This would make a perfect photo.

"Hey Quinn, sit with me?", the voice was Tara's, she'd pinned up her red locks and wore her signature smile. I didn't hesistate and followed her to an empty table in the middle of the class. I put down my bag in relief, and repeated my process, I scanned the room.

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