Happening >>Riley Matthews<<

Chapter 16

Ten minutes before the end of the hour, I took a step back and admired my work. It was no Maya but it was "better" than a purple cat. My forearms were covered in paint but I didn't care. As long as people approved of my painting, I was satisfied.

I opened twisted the handle with my elbows and pushed the rest of the door open with my back. I walked to art as fast as you could on crutches and knocked on the glass part of the door with my elbow. I put on my goofy smile against my will and I'm sure I looked like an idiot. But then again it might as well be time to show everyone who I am. I made my smile bigger. Everyone needed to see me as an idiot.

Ms. Kossal saw me and quickly opened the door. "Ms. Kossal? I finished and I need help cleaning up because if I do it then..." I motioned toward my hands "then I would only make a bigger mess." I smiled genuinely for the first time in a while. I smiled at my own self. My own smile and my own mess. I won a battle, but there's still an entire war going on. I noticed the paint on my crutches from my hands and just smiled wider. I was so adorable.

She smiled, nodded her head, addressed the class that she would be back shortly, and followed me into the Janitor's Closet. When she saw my work her jaw dropped. She gazed in awe at what I had created. Granted it wasn't my usual, but it was nothing to marvel at. In fact, I thought it was awful. But everybody is hard on themselves, right? And I have a neighbor too so I guess that helps...

Ms. Kossal helped me clean up everything and she wiped off my arms. That was very kind of her. She handed me the paint pallets and brushes and the other supplies and she carried my painting. I don't understand why I couldn't carry my own "masterpiece," but then again what do I know? Nothing.

She waltzed into the art room with her "prized possession." Technically mine. She proclaimed, "This is the work of a true artist!" Everybody turned to look at it while I put away the supplies. "This is a true work of art. I am very proud of you, Riley." She beamed and handed me my canvas. I clutched it between my hand and my crutch

"Hey! Where dat generic original purple cat I see everyday and can't stand?" Zay asked. I wish he knew. He wouldn't have said that if he knew. He's just helping me fall deeper and deeper and deeper... into this pit that I know I will never climb out of. Well, at least as long as my neighbor lives and dwells in my heart and brain that he not only damaged, but destroyed and now controls.

I looked over at him, smiled, and stated matter-of-factly, "It's something new." He looked at me strange and shrugged it off. However, when I glanced over at Lucas, he appeared to be confused. What was there to be confused about? And when I looked at Farkle, he had concern and pity painted on his face, framed by disgrace. I think he just wanted me to paint a purple cat, too. Is that what everyone wants? Cuz I will gladly destroy it.

I hobbled over to my original desk and set it on my easel. Maya studied it closely with her artist eyes. I pulled my backpack on and rested my crutches up against the desk. "It really is beautiful, Riley. You're expanding your horizons. But Zay's right. Where's our everyday run-of-the-mill purple cat that we all know and love? He's like our-" I cut her off.

"SHE's like..." My purple cat was always a girl. No matter what the situation.

"My bad. She's like a family to us. We've all learned to love her. She grew on us. We love her for who she is even if she annoys us sometimes and we never want her to change." Maya put her hand on my canvas which was already dry.

"Sometimes things change, Maya." Her face was pained. "And sometimes they never fully return." I was killing her with my words. "And other times they never come back." Her face fell. We stared into each others' eyes until the bell rang, which felt like an eternity, but was probably only less than a minute. "I'm glad you liked your surprise." I felt like screaming at her, but I held back.

I grabbed my artwork, threw my crutches under my arms, and high-tailed it on outta there. Maya was an artist. She is an artist. I changed up my style and I wish she would have just appreciated it for what it was. Appreciated me for me.

But nope. Everybody wants the purple cat back and I am trying to tell everybody that that cat isn't coming back. It won't. I am done with the original, generic, every day run-of-the-mill purple cat. Life needs color and that's what I gave it.

Maya can't see true talent when it hits her over the head. Life sucks. That's what it does. It sucks. It sucks all of the oxygen out of purpose and all that's left are these little things called people. People who don't have purpose.

I hobbled over to my locker, burning with rage. I was so fed up with life and Maya.... ooooooooooo... If I could give her a piece of my mind right now, I would. But I'm kinda crippled so that wouldn't work. I put my crappy painting in my locker and slammed it shut.

I saw Maya, studying me at a distance, trying to keep her space. I bet she was trying to figure out what was running through that tiny acorn brain of mine. How I could be so self-deprecating, have such a low self-esteem.

Well it's not my fault that you're life is going well right now. You're mom is dating Shawn. You're learning how to be a good student. Ms. Kossal praises you! You have talent!!!

Little ole me on the other hand, well that's a different story... I have parents who can't see through my shell. My grades are dropping slightly because all I can think about is my neighbor. Ms. Kossal praises my art for the first time EVER, while you just bash it. Thanks a lot.

Some days I just want to kill myself.

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What do yall think she painted?????