Muddle on! (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 6

     At the age of four, I started taking ballet classes like any other little girl. And for two years had been reciting one and the same dance of little ducklings, wearing a pink leotard and a pink tutu. As you can see, that didn't work out well for me.

I'm no ballerina.

A year later, I became quite fond of swimming, and had been taking swimming classes for six months until some stupid kid called me a caterpillar, and by that ruined my chances of becoming next Olympic gold medalist. Then, I started taking karate lessons – a Mr. Miyagi style, of course. But sadly, it didn't work out for me, either. Especially, after I painted the entire wall in the karate studio in pink polka dots. In my defense, I was only eight at that time and thought that a splash of color in a dull gray hall wouldn't hurt anyone. Apparently, it did. I was banned from taking any karate classes till the rest of my life.

Anyhow, my next three hobbies didn't bring much success into my life. I had absolutely no musical talent, no voice, no hearing. My flute lessons lasted approximately for ten weeks before I gave up and tried to have only vocal classes instead. That, by the way, turned out a complete disaster. The lady said that I should try something that doesn't involve singing or music in general for that matter.

After all my misfortunes, and countless tries to find myself, I settled on art. On drawing to be precise. I sort of became an underground artist, and when I say underground, I mean I never showed myself to the world. I just began taking art classes at school, and when the time came to go to college, I've sent my applications to multiple numbers of schools with good art programs. Well, mainly I choose art because it was something I was remotely good at.

And it was until I discovered...

hold your breath...

Pottery.

That's right! Pottery. P-O-T-T-E-R-Y. Pottery. The day that I was forced to attend the class instead of Tinley, I discovered that I absolutely adored clay. Moreover, I found out the first unknown fact about myself. I was surprisingly good at it. My fingers worked magic, and I managed to make my first vase, and it was perfect.

Also, I didn't expect to find interesting people in the class. Stupidly, at first I imagined the class to be full of hippies or nerds, and when I stepped into the classroom, I realized that I was the biggest nerd there, not even as cool as hippie...

Anyhoo, to cut a long story short, I found my new promising hobby and signed up for the Sunday classes.

But, that was not all what happened in my novelty of the year department. Apart, from wrapping my head around the whole "Ted and me" thingy. Which was a quite handful thingy, by the way. Not to mention having pottery as my new favorite outside interest. Something else caused a whole new wave of mixed emotions and confusion.

The very Sunday of my first pottery lesson, Tinley returned back to our dorm a bit later than her usual time. And usually she would return early in the morning for her class, and then spend the entire day working on her school projects or just hang out with me. This time, she came back almost before designated hour to go to bed. At ten o'clock p.m. to be specific, and if she didn't send me a message informing me of her late return, I would go worry sick.

I was sitting on my bed browsing the net while chewing on an apple when the door of my room hastily swung open, revealing wide-eyed looking Tinley. Silently, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her almost robotically. Her vivid gaze traveled by the interior, and when it stopped on me, her nervousness picked up.

"Okay," she advanced to my bed, placing her mini-travel bag on the floor, and then sat down next to me giving me a creepy look.

"What?" I uttered cocking one eyebrow.