Artistic Behavior (#Wattys2014)

Chapter Three - Are We There Yet?

A/N Okay, so, if this chapter, or any other chapter, looks REALLY messed up, blame my computer. Because after every... 50 words I write, it back-spaces like a ghost is just..... there. And it deleted almost all the words, so please, I will be adding a few frustrating thoughts in here (maybe) XD Bare with me, dear people. D;

Anyway, here's the chapter! x

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Chapter Three -

Are We There Yet?

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"You're fucking kidding me right?" Remy says, her eyes wide when I tell her that I'm leaving to the art school I've always told her about, for the whole summer. Well, almost the whole summer. Everytime I get to one part, she stops me and says something between the lines of "bloody hell, you idiot" or "better not come back as a bitch." I mean, I'm not surprised she says that, she absolutely hates rich kids, I guess. She's never really talked to a person who has billions of fucking dollars, but everytime she watches a movie, she says, "I damn right hate her, she's a slut and a bitch." Those are her exact words.

"Um, no?" I tell her, shrugging, with a cringe-worthy look on my face. If possible, her doe-like eyes become even wider, and she lashes out, slapping me across the face.

"That's what you get for leaving me!" She screeches, throwing her arms in the air.

"That hurt," I whine pathetically, rubbing my cheek with my left hand, glaring daggers at her innocent face, when she really isn't.

"I should've let you teach me art," she starts, pacing around the room, "so I could join you, yeah?" She stops, looking at me for my opinion.

I shake my head, a smirk pulling at my lips. "You're serious? Hell no, you would never even pay attention!"

"Yeah, you're right," she mutters, placing her head in her hands, but then she takes her head out and stares at me with a mischevious glint in her eyes. This cannot be good.

"Hide me in your suitcase!" she squeals, placing her hands on my shoulders. I stare at her with my mouth wide open in shock, and stare, and stare, and stare. I finally snap out of my shocked state when she slams her foot (which has a boot with a heel on it, whatever those are called) on my bare feet, which makes me scream out in pain.

"Hey, what was that for?" I yell at her, my eyes wide as saucers.

"You weren't paying attention!"

"Anyway," I glare at her again, making sure she doesn't interrupt me, again, "you're almost six foot, you wouldn't even be able to fit." She places a hand over her heart, and dramatically gasps, feigning hurt.

"I thought you'd have more faith in me," she sticks her nose up in the air, and closes her eyes, turning the other way with her arms crossed.

"Has anyone told you you're an amazing actress?" I suddenly say, smirking when I see her shift feet, and her head lowers.

"Really?" She says quietly. Then pauses. She spins around with a big grin on her face. "Apology accepted!" I shake my head in amusement, small chuckles escaping my mouth.

"Wait," she says after a few minutes of me laughing, and her looking at me like an idiot. "Are you even packed?" I stop laughing immediately, staring at her, alarmed. She grabs my wrist, once she sees my panicked look, and drags me upstairs, all the way to my room. She pushes me inside, and slams the door closed.

"Now, we need to find perfect outfits."

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"Please tell me these aren't yours," I mutter, looking at the clothes she threw inside my bag.