The Broken Girl and The Golden Boy

Avoidance is an Art

Chapter 7: Piper

Crap. This was a terrible idea. I should have just let Justin drive Sadie to St. Monica's and walked here. Now I had to deal with death glares from the majority of the female population. I mean, I'm used to nobody liking me, but usually it's in a more... passive way.

"Slut,"  hissed some blonde girl I've never met. My hand curled into a fist and I had to remind myself that breaking school rules would get me kicked out. I wouldn't lose everything I'd worked for over a stupid comment from a girl who probably couldn't tell a crayon from a paintbrush.

"She's not even cute!" her friend whined, stamping her foot like a little kid, "How did she get a guy like Justin?" I ducked my head and let my hair fall in front of my face, shielding me from view. If only it could block out the idiotic gossip. Even the guys couldn't seem to resist commenting.

"Why do you think Cameron's hanging out with the crazy chick?" one guy asked his buddy.

"You know what they say, man," the other guy replied, "The crazy ones are always great in bed. I bet you fifty bucks our quarterback is hitting that." Oh my god... I could feel my face turning the color of a tomato. I sped up my pace, but I still heard the first boy's reply.

"Oh, yeah, and aren't the artistic types all into all that kinky shit - y'know handcuffs and whips and..." I could die right now. Or sucker punch a few ignorant assholes... Unfortunately, neither one was an option right now. I slipped through the door to my Chemistry class without bothering to go to my locker - like I'd spend more time in unsupervised high school hell than I had to!

"Good morning, Miss Breen," Mr. Hollough greeted me, before turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.

"Um... good morning," I replied, a bit weirded out that he knew my name on the second day of school. I plopped my bag down by my lab table and pulled out my sketchpad. I stared at the page with the poster, but nothing was really coming to mind. With a shrug, I flipped to a clean page and started drawing light lines and soft angles. I didn't know what I was drawing yet - I was letting my hand have free reign.

I was so distracted I didn't even notice when he came in. Which is why I nearly jumped out of my skin when his deep voice said, "That drawing looks amazing, Piper. Who is she?"

"Eek!" I screeched, knocking my sketchpad to the floor. I quickly knelt down to gather my papers before glaring up at him and scolding, "Justin! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

"Sorry," he held up his hands - half-apologetic, half-teasing - and said, "Didn't realize you were so jumpy, Pipecasso."

"I'm not jumpy," I grumbled, crossing my arms like a pouting child. I spun on my stool so my back was to him.

"Yes, you are," he sing-songed, "And you're being a grump too."

"A grump?" I twisted around to give him an incredulous look, "What are we? Five?"

"You're sure acting like it," he laughed.

"Ugh!" I groaned, turning away again, "That's it, I'm done talking to you."

"Fine..." he said, "I'm sorry, Pipecasso. You're not a grump, you're not jumpy, and you're not a child. But you never answered my question; who was the woman in your sketch?"

"Oh," I replied with a frown, "I'm not exactly sure."

"You drew it," he chuckled, "How can you not know who she's supposed to be?"

"I let my hand draw whatever it wanted," I told him as I opened up the sketchpad to my latest drawing, "So I have no idea who she's supposed to... oh my god."