["I stood there: waiting, wanting, hoping, feeling. Allowing the sensations of the world to consume me as I stared deeply into the pools of honey that were his eyes. I wanted no more than to dive right in. For him to hold me close and never let go."...
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~Casey~
After English class ended, it was finally time for art, my fucking escape from all this hell. There, I could just relax and not think about anything but my art.
"Casey, look what I drew," Jared said excitedly. Fun fact: Jared just so happened to be in this class too. His hand turkey drawings were to die for. That was sarcasm.
I turned to Jared and waited for him to show me his fantastic art. Embry looked over his shoulder and saw it first. "Wha-oh my god! Jared!" Embry doubled over laughing.
"Don't laugh. It's art!" Jared giggled.
"What did you do?" I chuckled at the laughing fools in front of me.
Jared tried to stifle back his laughter and showed me the paper.
He flipped the sketchbook around and what I saw next made me laugh like a complete maniac. In front of me was a well-drawn picture of a penis with a top hat. "This is Mr. Peen! He has a hat and a big ol' smile!" He said like a five-year-old.
"Oh my fucking God!" I couldn't control myself. As I said before, we were a bunch of immature twelve-year-olds.
Jared was more competent than he seemed. Why do I say this, you might ask? Well, he knew how much I was trying not to focus on my sister, who was sitting across from me, staring daggers into my face. So, Jared being Jared, decided to distract Em and me as best he could. How did he do that? By drawing phallic objects.
"Sup, fuckers!" Paul suddenly greeted us as he sat in the seat beside me.
"What are you doing here?" Embry questioned. "You're not in art class."
"Bitch, I'm Picasso. My artistic abilities are so great that this class is beneath me."
"Pfft, yeah, sure." Em guffawed.
"Don't you have history right now?" Jared asked.
"Sure," Paul smirked.
"Lahote! Get back to your class." Ms. Smith, our art teacher, said.
"Uh oh."
The bell rang.
"Yes! Saved by the bell." He muttered.
"Let's get out of here."
"Hell is over. Time to sing! La, La, Laah--" Jared attempted to serenade us with his voice as we walked down the sidewalk, but Paul cut him off by slamming his hand over his mouth.
"Don't, just don't." He said with attitude, then lifted his hand off Jared's mouth.
"Fine, what's got your panties in a twist?" Jared asked.
