Michael's life hadn't changed much since he had met Delilah a week ago. He hadn't made many friends and Miss Madeline was still concerned by his lack of communication with his peers. However, Delilah had spoken to him every single day, and while Michael still didn't think that Delilah really wanted to be his friend, she brightened his school day. Michael had started to not dread going to school.
The class had been set a task - they were to paint a picture of their families and friends. Michael took his piece of paper, a tray with paints, paintbrushes and a plastic cup of water to a quiet corner, away from the rest of his classmates.
Painting wasn't Michael's favourite thing to do in the world, but the boy was determined to create the best portrait of his parents.
Michael zoned out as he painted, sucked away into his own little world. So much so that he didn't take any notice of the kids that had settled down next to him. Their words fell upon deaf ears and the gestures fell upon blind eyes. Michael didn't see their growing frustration with him until it was too late.
Michael let out a cry as the glass he had been using to wash his brush in before changing colours came crashing down, the tinted water spilling over the painting he had worked ever so hard on. He stared down at the once perfect paper, his bottom lip trembling and tears pooling in his eyes. Suddenly, he became aware of the whispers leaving the lips of the boys that were beside him, the sounds soon morphing into giggles.
"He's crying!" The tallest one said to his friends, and Michael knew he had been the one to commit the crime. "He's a baby!"
"Hey!" A high-pitched voice cried out. "That's mean!"
The words had come from Delilah, who had stormed over angrily once she had heard Michael's cry. She stood in front of Michael, her fists clenched and her face tinted red with anger.
The tallest boy laughed. "Michael's being protected by a girl!" The group reduced itself into giggles once again.
Delilah swung her fist, hitting the boy square in the jaw. The boy instantly reduced himself into a blubbering mess of tears and sobs. Conveniently, Miss Madeline was drawn to these cries (although she was still oblivious to Michael's sorry state) and was instantly beside the crying boy, trying to work out what had happened.
The boy tripped and stumbled over his words before finally managing to splutter out, "she- she hit me!"
Miss Madeline let out an outraged cry before turning to Delilah, the blonde now standing with a smug smile on her face. "Delilah, that is unacceptable!" Leaving the boy (whose name Michael had learnt was Justin) with the classroom assistant, Miss Madeline ushered Delilah out of the classroom to give her a lecture on why she couldn't hit people.
Michael stood alone, sniffling quietly as he stared down at the painting that he had been so proud of. The paint had smudged and the paper was soaked through, the blue-tinted water having stained the previously white paper. He wiped his eyes, sighing to himself. He probably did look like a baby.
"Don't be sad, Mikey." Delilah spoke from beside him, causing Michael to jump from surprise. "Blue is the bestest colour."
"Thanks," Michael mumbled. "You didn't have to punch him."
"Meh, it's cool," Delilah said. "He deserved it for hurting my friend."
