Never Worked

Chapter 5

Baltimore County, MD 2008

The bell rang, and the sides of my mouth turned up just a small amount. Not enough for anyone to really notice, or that people were watching me to even look for it, but just enough to feel it. It was fourth period. Students packed their things and filed out of the room hastily. I was smiling slightly because my favorite part of the day was next. Art class. Well, Advanced Studio Art II, if you wanted to get technical. I put away my sketchbook that I was doodling in instead of paying attention to my English teacher. I had finished the classwork 20 minutes before everyone else did anyway. That was normal for me. I'm not sure if I just work faster or the other kids just didn't care.

I gathered my things just as every other student had and walked down the hall to the art rooms. Chesapeake High School was like a small community. Everyone knew everyone and even if you didn't, you knew someone who did. I was personally horrible at names. I had the privilege of being this way because I didn't often spend that much time with people. I found you could have a long, in depth, conversation with someone and not once use their name. And at some point, asking their name was just rude if you were already supposed to "know" them.

No one really knew me. I played my part in school, did what I was supposed to do, and said what I was supposed to say at the appropriate times. But that was about it. Who you saw on the outside was nothing like the person I was on the inside.

To the outside world I was this shy, talented girl who didn't talk much and had no friends. In reality, I wasn't shy at all, I just knew how to survive with the least amount of pain. Making your presence known unfortunately also made you a target. Talented? I didn't see myself doing anything that anyone else couldn't do. With practice and some time, I'm pretty sure anyone could draw and paint the way I do. The only difference between me and them was I didn't see boundaries. If I wanted to do or make something, I did it. I used my resources to help me, no matter how scarce they were. I used old t-shirts and belts as raw materials to make bags. I used printer paper to design my first pieces on, and as tags I used it laminated with clear tape to sew inside pieces. I used zippers from discarded purses to make something new. I thought anyone could do it if they put their mind to it. It was just my creativity that set me apart.

I was almost to my favorite part of the whole school when I saw Sean, DeAndre's best friend and teammate. He was carrying one binder in his hand, no books and walking with that special swag they always talked about. How he could get every note and assignment in one binder I would never understand, but he did it. With confidence and all. I envied that.

Sean came beside me and put his free arm around my shoulders. "Hey, Frankilyn's sister! How's it goin'?" He said with a smile on his face. Sean was messing with me, he KNEW I hated that nickname!

"My name is not 'Frankliyn's sister', it's Dreah! We have the same last name, the nickname doesn't even make any sense." I said for the hundredth time to him. Sean's smile grew even wider as he laughed at my response. That was just what he was expecting me to say.

"Are you, or are you not, Frankliyn's sister?" He asked, still smiling. Jerk.

"No, I am Frankliyn as well." I said clutching my getting-heavier-by-the-minute-books to my chest as we continued to walk down the hallway in the mull of students.

"Nope, see, you're Dreah. Frankliyn, is Frankliyn. Now are you his sister?" This conversation was getting more pointless by the minute and I could see the art room coming into view. I sighed.

"Yes, but-"

"Then you are Frankliyn's sister!" He interrupted. And the big jerk was still smiling! I mean mugged him and gave him a look that told him exactly how I felt about that nickname. I would never tell him this, but I kind of liked it. It gave me an identity and showed people actually cared to name me at all. And in High School if people took the time to call you something outside your name, they at least cared about your existence, even if it was attached to DeAndre's.