Fix Me

{ 4 }

I honestly never expected to see Gee or Gerard again. But to my surprise, they began to sit with me during class. Not during lunch, though. I didn't even let her know we had the same lunch period. She has other friends. She doesn't need to waste all her time on me.

I can never tell Gee and Gerard apart. Someday Gerard comes in wearing a dress and other days Gee comes in wearing no make up and zero effort put into her appearance. I'm talking about then like they're two different people. Wow.

But as we sat next to each other one day, Gerard was working in the notebook. I looked over, casually trying to figure out what he was doing. I guess I did a bad job of being casual because he eventually looked up at me.
I snapped my head to look away from him but it's already too late.

"You could've just asked if you wanted to see it," he tells me.

"Sorry. I didn't wanna be rude."

"It's not rude. You can look," he smiles at me as he slides the notebook in my direction.

"I haven't finished it yet," he tells me. He's blushing as he gestures to the pictures. Awwwhh he's insecure about his art. "I still need to outline it and color it. I'm really bad at coloring though. It always messes everything up."

The drawing is of a run down gas station in the desert. I can't believe how well it's drawn. It looks like it could be hung in an art gallery and it hasn't even been finished yet.

"This is so cool," I state in awe.

"Really? Thanks," he's blushing and smiling shyly. It kinda makes my heart swell. "It's for a comic book I'm thinking of making."

"You're going to make a comic book?" I gasp, in utter amazement.

"I'm gonna try. I don't know if I'm good enough."

"I will take this notebook and slap you in the face with it."

"....why?"

"Because this is amazing! You're amazing....with art. That was weird. But you're really good. You should let me read the comic book someday."

"If it's finished."

"I'll force you to finish it," I tell him, not sure if it was supposed to be a threat or a joke. "What's it about?"

"It's a desert dystopia. There's this city, I think I'm gonna call it Battery City, and it's trying to control its citizens and there are these criminal type people called 'killjoys'."

"Hey my grandma calls me a killjoy!" I interrupt. "Sorry. Keep going."

"So the killjoys are trying to save the people in battery city and there's a lot of action and fighting."

As he talks he moves his hands and has this glimmer in his eyes and he's just so passionate about it that it almost makes me happy.

"I haven't started it yet. I'm still working out all the details and characters."

"It's still really cool."

"Yeah I guess so. Thanks. But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you do? Like hobbies."

"Oh," I say. Did I have an hobbies? I can't think of any. What do I like to do? Do I like to do anything? No. I guess not. I had to have at least one hobby. What do I like to do in my free time?

Nothing.

I don't have free time. Every second that I have is spent feeling sorry for myself.

"Patty?"