nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

nine.

Present. September 14th, 2018.

I tap my pen against my desk mindlessly as I wish away the rest of the seventh period. Anatomy. Also known as the most boring class of the day.

Instead of paying attention, I avert my thoughts to think about Art next period and the continuation of our projects. Thank God it's Friday.

The boy next to me has a scowl perfectly placed on his face, his eyes brows scrunched and his eyes laced with aggravation. Probably due to the sound of my pen. I roll my eyes at the dramatic facial expression and hold my pen in place, halting my previous actions. The boy turns around in victory and leans back in his chair.

The video playing on the screen does nothing to signal that I should be paying attention. I can't stop thinking about getting out of this hell hole and living my relaxed weekend.

When the bell rings, I practically leap out of my seat and head for the door, doing my best to keep myself steady. I try to slow myself down before I run into someone, but it's too late when I come crashing into a hard chest. "Watch it, bitch!" The other person shouts. Oh, hell no.

"Swallow your idiocy for one fucking moment, will you?" I snap and look up to see the boy glaring down at me with daggers. Boys who call girls bitches aren't exactly listed high on my list of approval. "I was going to apologize, but you clearly don't deserve my time of day. Now if you'll excuse me." I finish and put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him away from in front of me and walking off.

"Psycho." He grunts under his breath and turns on his heels to walk in the opposite direction.  I rub my forehead and let out a heavy sigh.

I make my way to Mrs.Conley's room and see Carson already sat down with his canvas set up. He looks extremely focused which causes me to make my way around him quietly.

If I knew that Carson's idea of 'being friends' meant him texting me almost every day, I would have declined the offer. Ever since I agreed to his whole friend offer, he has been very persistent with the texting. I think he thinks that texting is the pathway to a good friendship.

"Think you could just sneak past me now did you?" He smirks at me as he twirls a dark blue colored pencil in his hands.

"Not exactly," I huff and plop onto my stool. "You notice everything, or so I've observed." I grab my blank canvas and glance at the tray Carson grabbed, the right one thankfully.

"Well, your observations are correct, Ms. Wilson!" I can imagine the exclamation points that would follow that sentence if he were to be texting me.

Just as I'm about to answer, Mrs.C comes up and gently taps my shoulder. "Hi there, how's your day?"
She tries to ask me this every day to check in. I used to find it annoying, but I've grown to like the genuine interest in my day that she shares.

"Typical. Same old boring classes and predictable students. I feel like I'm living in a loop." I sigh, crossing my arms and letting the blank canvas taunt me.

"It'll get better, trust me. Soon you'll know what I mean." She pats my shoulder one final time before moving on to the next student.

After about twenty minutes of leaning into my hand and staring at the currently plain canvas, I realize that I have lost all sense of creativity. It's been twenty some minutes, and I haven't had even a sliver of an idea course through my brain.

"Not to interrupt your ever so eventful art process, but Lena? You haven't done anything this whole period. I'm beginning to think you're possessed." He cracks a smile at the thought, and I slap my palm against my face with a heavy sigh.