The Eccedentesiast

Chapter Thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen
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"Today, we are going to start a small project," Mr. K—the art teacher went on. "You will have to sketch at least five things that could help everyone see who you wish to be." He sat at the edge of his desk. "Don't draw something about you. We don't do that here."

The class laughed. "I don't want to get to know you. Such crap. I want to get to know the better you. Your expected future version. Draw things that express that fictional character. Who knows," he shrugged, "maybe you'll get to be that better version someday tomorrow."

𖨆

"I don't think I can get through high school," Brian confesses.

"What do you mean? You're dropping out or some shit?" Connor asked him.

Brian sigh and slumped down in his seat. "I'm just so tired."

Emma looked away and down at the ground. "Hmm."

"I'm never good under pressure."

"Who's pressuring you?" Asked Gabriel.

"Everything." He paused. "I just wish I could stay home for at least a week straight and sleep."

Daniel bit into his chicken sandwich. "Maybe we should get jobs."

Gabriel glared at him. "No."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows as she thought. "That's actually a really good idea."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly do we need the money?"

Daniel shrugged. "We could save up. Maybe if I earn my own money, Emiliano will finally let me get a trampoline."

"A trampoline? I've always wanted one," Gabriel said excitedly.

"So, should we start looking for jobs after school?" Daniel asked.

Connor scrunched up his nose. "Oh. Today?"

"Uh. Yeah," Daniel said.

"But-"

"Stop." Gabriel held up his hand. "You procrastinate too fucking much. Geez fucking Louise. You rescheduled your birthday for fuck sake."

Connor smirked. "It's what I do best."

𖨆

Emma plopped down on the couch. "I can't seem to find places that are hiring."

Daniel sighed and scratched his head frustratingly. "Looking for a job is so hard."

"Job?" Derek walked in and leaned against a wall.

"Yeah." Gabriel stood up and walked in front of his father. "We're trying to get jobs."

Derek sat down on a couch. "What are you kids interested in?" he asked. "What type of job are you willing to do? Or what are you simply good at?"

Emma shrugged. "Nothing."

Derek laughed. "What about small shops?" he suggested. "Like antique stores. Maybe even one of you can work in a grocery store."