The Doncaster Rovers l.t.

Chapter 6- Picasso

 !!!1!!!!!1!!!!!!1!!MUY IMPORTANTE A/N!!!!!!1!!!!!111!!!

sorta late, but with a very valid excuse. i sorta forgot to mention that i was moving, so my apologies for the delay on the update but i had no wifi or time to write really.

if u had trouble picturing jadens shitty painting, the photo to the side is how i imagined it, except in the form of an actual painting ya feel

anyways, enjoy the chapter, i tried to make it kinda of long but this was kind of rushed because i really didn't want to leave you guys hanging.

read on

(((not edited)))

Chapter 6:

"Morning Mama!" I grinned, plopping into a stool in the kitchen ungracefully. My mother winced as the chair squeaked. I gave her a toothy grin. I frowned when she returned it with a much weaker smile. My mom had always been a morning person, her smile was always stretched from ear to ear from dawn 'til sunset. Something was wrong. I forked a breakfast sausage into my mouth.

"What's wrong?" I mumbled through my mouthful.

"The art gallery's having a Juniour charity event, and we're short on submitions. Not many people are submitting their paintings because the prize is a cheque for their chosen charity." She sughed, rubbing her temples as she leaned forward on the counter.

"I could try and submit something?" I suggested as I buttered my toast. My mothers head snapped up, her frantic gaze set on me as she shook her head.

"It's alright sweetie, you focus on school and soccer." She almost pleaded. 

"I don't mind, it ouldn't take too much time." I shrugged, grinning through a mouthful of toast.

"It's okay- really." She assured. I frowned. "You should get ready, the bus will be here any minute." She rushed out, quickly disappearing into her study. 

After collecting my things, I rushed out the door, bidding goodbye over my shoulder. The bus didn't bother stopping at the stop sign, so if you happened to be outside at 7:30 in the morning that day and you saw a teenage girl waving her cleats in the air as she ran after a yellow school bus, that would be I. Luckily, I had managed to catch up to the bus, and I boarded at the stop after mine.

"Morning," I panted, stepping into the bus. I was lucky to recieve a very kind greeting from the bus driver, a scowl. 

In the past two weeks of attending this school, I had came to the conclusion that Louis and his girlfriend did not ride the school bus. I had only seen them on my first day, but never again. I had spotted Louis climbing out of a Jeep some mornings though.

I squeaked as the bus jolted forward, and I found myself losing balance.

This had become a daily occurence, I was sure the bus driver was out to get me. I landed quite ungracefully in a seat next to a brown haired girl who was finishing her homework. My rough landing had caused her hand to slide across her sheet, marking a long line with her pencil.My eyes widened when a deep animal-like growl left her lips,  She glared through her dark framed glasses, her hand shoved my shoulder, pushing me off the seat.

I love Doncaster.

x

I swept my paint brush against the canvas lightly, squinting my eyes. I was determined to construct a painting for the gala, and where better to do that than in art class? I hummed thoughtfully, it was missing emotion. When we arrived to art class Ms. Park had instructed us to create a painting with emotion. I tapped my foot, pondering what she meant by emotion.