What Are We Searching For, Really?

3.

—11;12am.

"Yo, Bay!" I poked her ribs and she turned around, halfway through a bag of Japanese dumplings.

"What?" Her teeth grazed the tip of her 4th dumpling, bits of the skin chipping off and falling onto her skirt.

"Do you happen to know where Mason lives?"

So I said sounding as unsuspicious as I could.

She looked at me with bewilderment.

"Flat C, 6th floor, Hanson court, Caldecott Road." She blushed when she realised what this just proved her as. "So..why'd you ask?"

My smirk faded away quickly as I tried to come up with an excuse. "Um.."

I sighed. Might as well be blunt.

"I'm going to his house to do some extra credit science work."

"Oh."

I looked at her, confused. I was expecting a bigger reaction, but all she was doing was biting into yet another dumpling.

Immense guilt washed over me like a tide and I felt a flickering heat inside of me rise. "I'm sorry?"

She just laughed at me. "Why are you sorry?"

There was an uncomfortable edge to her voice that made me at a loss for words.

Our art teacher popped his head outside the door and let us in. Perfect timing. Loud rustles of bags and heavy footsteps immediately clouded my hearing and I lost concentration.

Art-supposedly the most relaxing subject, especially with our freestyle lesson, but I couldn't think of anything to paint. I ended up painting a girl sitting in the midst of a white space, cracked mirrors on the walls; all holding a different reflection of the girl. Black, greedy and twisting branches reached for her from the ceiling, crawling over the walls. As I was finishing it up, I looked at the whole piece and winced at how much it reflected me. Having such a well-known and respected personality that isn't even my own.

I hadn't even realised my teacher had been watching me for a certain period of time, along with Bay and some of my other classmates.

"Oh." I quickly snatched up my paper and proceeded towards the drying rack, purposely shoving it in between many of the first years' work.

It got crumpled, and I spent almost an hour and a half on it, but at that point I didn't care anymore.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder and I looked up to see my art teacher.

"Won, is everything okay?" His voice was very calm and soothing, but I was unnerved all the same.

"I'm...yeah. Ok," I said slowly, turning my shoulder away from him. "Just...like to draw meaningful stuff!"

He frowned. "Doesn't mean you had to crumple it up. That was a beautiful piece."

"I can always draw another one. It's not a big deal."

He smiled at me. "If I commission you for a portrait painting how much would that be, approximately?"

"How much?" I tilted my head at an angle, confused.

"You know. The price, Won."

Price??

"But you're my teacher.." I tried to protest. He wouldn't hear of it.

"I'll send the details to your email. Tell me the price then."

And just like that, he turned around and started walking away. Then he stopped and pivoted around.