The act of deceiving yourself

Shit splattered on a canvas

When we arrived at the museum, I waited for everyone to walk out of the bus. Cameron had looked at me weirdly when I was stilling sitting down as everyone was leaving, but he walked away with his friends. I was relieved since I didn't want him to talk to me. He was cute and handsome, and it would probably be every girl's dream for him to talk to her, but not for me. I wanted him to stay away. Just like I wanted everyone to stay away. I couldn't handle talking to strangers. Not at all boys either. I know it was immature, but I went completely anxious when that happened.

"You will be walking in groups of six. You have to go through every painting on this map, and write down you initials thoughts and what stood out the most for all six of you. We will next Wednesday follow up on the paintings and then do deeper analyses of them. The analyzing will be done individually, but I want you to work together for today. You can choose you own groups, but if someone is left behind I'll decide. Get to work." And with those words from our teacher, everyone went on and started to decide the groups. The popular girls quickly formed a group, just like the less popular girls formed on. Then the nerdy boys, or basically those that weren't jocks, formed one. The jocks were five and I realized I was the only one standing behind. I figured no girl wanted to be with the guys since they couldn't have their bff forever and ever with them then.

No one really said anything and my anxiety hit me like a train. I needed for someone to tell me what to do. I wouldn't be doing anything on my own.

"And Finley, which group are you in?" Ms. Collins asked. I could barely breathe and the few breaths I actually could take was short and came out like a whimper. Thankfully no one was standing close enough to hear. I was looking at the ground. I didn't dare to look up.

"Finley?" Ms. Collins said again.

"She's with us, we need another member," I heard some guy say. Ms. Collins agreed and went on with further instructions.

When I was starting to calm down again I looked up. Everyone was scattering away and the jocks were still standing and talking, while being on their phones. Cameron came over to me.

"I hope it's fine I said you were in our group." His eyes were squinted trying to block out the sun. At his words, a rock fell to my stomach and I tried to swallow so I could talk.

"It's fine," I got out. Ms. Collins came over and asked us to get started and we all went inside. I was handed a paper and we soon stood in front of the first painting.

"Shit splattered on a canvas. That's what I see," one of the guys said. The others laughed and agreed.

"What do you see?" Cameron asked me in a low voice. He didn't want the other guys to hear. Probably because he didn't want to seem like he actually cared about the assignment.

I tried to wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans, but it didn't really work. They kept getting clammier and clammier. I was searching for something I could say to Cameron, but my mind ended up blank.

"I... I uh don't know," I simply said and took a step back. I didn't want to stand next to him. The only thoughts running through my mind said 'please stop talking to me'. I actually really wanted him to stop talking to me.

"Come on, what do you see?" he said taking a step back with me. I felt the anxiety rising. I had to get out of here. This was going to be a big one.

"Shit," I muttered to myself. It was only a mere whisper, but apparently, Cameron heard it.

"Shit? Mm, I guess." He tilted his head to the side and looked at the painting. "If you... If you really look closely at it from this angle, I guess it could be shit," he said with a laugh. It was funny, but I couldn't laugh. My throat was swollen and I really, really needed to get out of here.