The Complications of Having a Guy Best Friend

Chapter Four

I ease the art room door open and the scent of acrylic paint and clay threaten to suffocate me. My erratic coughing draws the attention of Randy.

"Lys! Come here!"

"I'm trying." I gasp fanning my hand in front of my face. Believe me, I love art and I think I'm pretty good at it. But I stray far from Lakewood's art room. I think it was built to diminish the school population. It was clear that ventilation was purposely avoided.

"Geez! And I'm the drama queen." I feel her grab my arm and drag me to her table. My eyeballs sting and begin to water.

"Yes. You still are!" I laugh.

By the time I reach the table, the smell had thinned out, or maybe I just manage to survive in this toxicity. On the walls are dozens of drawings: charcoal, graphite, pen. I found it so amazing the talent that this school contained. Then there were the paintings: those that were mistakened for photographs and those that were unique, more on a Picasso level. But it was attention grabbing. It was obvious that the art room was where students went for their release, to unleash their talents. My proof were in piles, drawers, and walls of my room. In terms of school, my release was the music room, on a bench, in front of the piano.

"So...? What do you think?" Randy interrupted my thoughts. I gaze at the canvas. "It was a primary colors painting. Only red, blue, and yellow."

It was a painting of two half faces to get her to make one. The left side was a girl with long wavy hair, a green eye, and soft curved lips: Randy. The other half was a girl with shoulder length curly hair, a brown eye, and thin but plump lips, skin darker than the other half: "Me." I thought aloud.

"Bruce said to make it of something you cared about, your inspiration. So I painted my other half."

I looked at her, my best friend. My better half. My everything. Middle school had been hell, she made the flame all right.

"Been working on it all of last week. That's why I couldn't give you a ride. Sorry, I lied. But I'm your chauffeur until you get your license. I promise." She gave me a toothy grin.

"Oh, I hate you!" I exclaimed throwing my hands around her In a tight embrace. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was a surprise, Lys. I couldn't tell you."

"Sense when did you know how to keep a secret?"

"I resent that." She said laughing.

"Well it's freaking beautiful!"

"It is." The voice came from behind us. "Great job, Miranda." It was Bruce, the art teacher. He stared down at us with his ocean blue eyes. His dark hair gelled as usual and a closely shaved, nicely trimmed beard. He has a strong resemblance to Colin O'Donoghue. Just as built and just as good looking.

"Thanks, Bruce. Now, all I have to do is get it graded and it's all yours. Something new to add to your collection." She says to me.

"No need. I already took a look at and I know just how hard you worked on it. You can take it home. I already have your grade in mind." Bruce says.

"I'm guessing A plus?" Randy asks.

"Now, Miranda, you may get to take your project home earlier, but you'll get your grade at the same time as everyone else." Bruce explains.

Randy frowns. "Fine."

"Out you go, I have to lock up." He says.

"Ok, ok," Randy says with her hands up in surrender. "Come on, Lys. Let's get you home." She shoots a look at Bruce and he just laughs and waves us off.