The Chase of Yesterday

One

A talent that I have always wanted to achieve was painting. Painting is one of the best ways to express yourself when you don't have the courage to convey them through words. To me, painting is something that can never be taken away, ever.

Setting my brush on the table next to me, I stare at the blank canvas, envying the emptiness of it. I'm jealous of the canvas because before it is even used, it already knows what it's meant for; they know what they are even before the artist touches it with their colored bristles. Art is already something before it even begins.

"Rena,"

A whisper disrupts my train of thought, leading me back to reality. Shaking my head for a split second, finding my eyes reach Mr. Hales' face, screaming disappointment. "Rena, you. . . you aren't doing too well in this class. If you continue to, well, 'do you', you won't be graduating."

My heart skips a few beats, not believing his words for a moment. Were those words even real? Still in shock, tears well up in my eyes, "W-what can I do that will change that?"

For a few moments, Mr. Hales solemnly searches for ideas, trying his best to find ways to help. Anticipating his answer, the bell rings. He tells me to come to class tomorrow and that he'll have something. Trusting his words, without a second thought, I reach for my binder and backpack and go turbo out the door. I can't let my parents know I'm failing. As I'm running, I feel something kick me to the ground, face planting into the pavement. An abundance of stares watches as I pick myself up. Few shared a look of empathy, but more shared a look of annoyance and confusion.

All of which I hate.

In the short distance, I hear laughter from the notorious Adam Richards and Derek Wilcox, their laughs are loud enough you can be three doors down and still hear them. What did surprise me was Sanford Lee. He didn't laugh, he just watched me. I tried to read his face, but all I got was nothing. Shortly after our "staring contest", my phone started to buzz signaling it was my mom. Turning on my heels, I answer my phone.

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The next day, I anticipated Mr. Hales's class for his long-awaited idea on how he's going to help me pass. By the time it was sixth period, I couldn't help it anymore and I make my way to his desk. Before I could make it over, a tall figure stood in my way; it was Sanford. Moving over to get away, we mirrored our steps a few times until Mr. Hales interrupts us.

"So, I guess you two already know each other?" bamboozled by his remark, I shake my head aggressively while Sanford shrugs his shoulders. "Well, that's good because you guys are partners." Both of us go wide-eyed, shocked.

Mr. Hales motions us to our seats and lets everyone quiet down before he began class. Within a moment, the class is dead silent, leaving room for him to speak.

"As you all know, my advanced artists, graduation is falling upon us," a wave of loud 'woos' belched out. "And I know I said this would be an easy class. . . but it looks like I made it too easy that a load of you are now lazy and failing."

"So, I have decided to have a group project." moans burst in unison.

I scanned the room to find the one person who would be just surprised as I was: Sanford. Yet, it was the complete opposite, he looked calm and collected as if this didn't faze him unlike a minute ago. Staring into space for far too long, me and London's name were called out for partners, even though we already knew that. As we were called, Sanford looked over, catching my stares. We must've been staring for a while because before we knew it, everyone got into their partners as we were still at our own desks. To make it less weird, I get up from my seat and go to him. I don't know why Mr. Hales partnered me with him, we won't get much done if we don't talk.