We're Okay

Art is Love, Art is Life

Auburn Hills high school is a hot mess. A mess so hot you could say it's burning up. Every elective is a disaster if you ask me, and each class is in its own world of insanity.

   For example, the school has been in a panic to scrape together enough money for the damaged kitchen. I heard while eavesdropping (it wasn't on purpose, I swear) that the school's funds landed short and they were almost ready to demand money from whoever started the fire. Good luck to that kid.

Good luck to myself as well, because I was trying my hardest to transfer to another elective. It would have been nice to have Culinary Arts back, but anything is better than art with Ira.

Unfortunately, our lovely guidance counselor is incredibly strict. I really can't catch a break.

"Mr. Lin, it's been over three weeks from the start of the semester. It's too late. If I'm lenient now, I might be later. That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

Ms. Reynolds is the kind of person that would be an excellent friend, but a terrible boss. She's strict and demanding, and her voice is high pitched and annoying. The last part is my personal opinion, but that doesn't make it any less irritating to hear.

"It's not too late!" I begged. "The semester hasn't even really started yet. I was allowed to change from culinary class to art, and that was late too."

"You were allowed to change to art because the kitchen was burned down."

"You're right, but what's one more elective switch?"

"Mr. Lin, I won't repeat myself. I have a meeting to attend if you will let me leave."

She briskly walked out of the door, leaving me worried for my art class. Then again, I was always worried for my art class.

•••

"Ben, thank you for turning in those missing assignments. I know you worked very hard on them," Mrs. Dillan said privately before class started.

"Thank you."

It was no lie. In fact, it was an understatement. I'd stayed up for hours on end trying to get the missing assignments done after Ira stole them. He hadn't so much as acknowledged or teased me about it. He was trying too hard to sell his innocence.

"May I ask you a question?" Mrs. Dillan questioned slowly, as if testing to see if the words fit together.

That was suspicious. She never approached a subject cautiously.

"Yes."

"How is your home life? I heard your sister provides for you both."

"My home life is fine," I huffed, defensive and offended she would assume otherwise. "My sister is great and makes sure everything is taken care of. Why do you want to know?"

"I was just curious. Your grades haven't been the best."

"Don't blame that on her."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Let's get class started."

I moved to my seat, still simmering at how she could assume my grades were Bailey's fault. Everyone knew I was stupid, it wasn't secret.

We had only a sheet of paper to fill out in class that day, so I had free time to finish my math homework. Ira had his own ideas.

"Lin." He poked my side with his pencil. "Lin, are you alive?"

"Stop, Ira."

"Too dumb to finish math in class, I see."