Like Stars At Night

Sixteen

I felt a finger dig into my side and I flinched.

Turning I slapped Daniel's hand away from my ribs.

“Focus,” I mouthed to his silly grin and turned my attention to Mr. Salami who had his back to us as he wrote on the board.

After a battery of tests this morning it was nice to come into Art class without the anticipation that tests bring thrumming my heart.

As I jotted down the details of ancient Greek art, I sensed the distinct feeling of being watched and swiveled. Only to find Daniel with his hand tucked beneath his chin, unabashedly gaping, his enigmatic dark brown irises twin pools of molten, swirling desire and fascination.

At least that's what I saw.

“Stop staring,” I whispered after making sure Mr. Salami was still scribbling away at the board.

“I can't,” he stated as his shiver-inducing voice carried over the approximately twenty inches between us. “You're so much more interesting than a bunch of dead white dudes.”

I had to physically clamp my hand over my mouth to subdue the very unladylike cachinnation that threatened to burst out.

In the space of just yesterday I got to be very well acquainted with Daniel's goofy side, you know, when he wasn't picking locks.

When I opened my bag this morning I found out he'd filled it with six delicate paper flowers that looked too good to be made out of paper. How did I know it was from him? Well, he'd written a letter of his name on the back of each one.

I didn't think he could get any more endearing than in true Daniel fashion he showed me that that was in fact possible.

“So,” Mr. Salami announced making me focus on him. “Before the period is over I would like to address a few things,” then he retrieved what I recognized as the painting I'd submitted yesterday. I was still mesmerized by the vivid blues and the way the wings of the fairies at the bottom of the majestic tree seemed to shine.

“Amarachi, to be very honest, I love this piece. It might be one of your best yet, but, it is not what I asked for, for Christ's sake!”

The proud smile I had on deflated and turned into a confused frown when Mr. Salami placed the framed painting on my table on top of my books.

“But . . .”

“But nothing. I asked for still life. Still life! And you give me fairies on a tree? Come on, Amarachi, don't you remember what still life is all about?”

I shrunk. “I do, I just thought the tree looked so lonely and boring so I decided to spice it up.”

Mr. Salami shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just redo it. This time, no fairies, no silly additions, nothing. I want a tree, no matter how boring it looks.”

I nodded and hated the way my eyes went foggy behind my glasses. I had had less than six hours of sleep and it was beginning to manifest.

I had no idea how long I sat there staring at the unsatisfactory painting but the next thing I felt was a finger under my chin and then I was gazing into Daniel's stunning, rich brown orbs.

“Are you ok?” His concern was unmistakable and caused my bottom lip to quiver.

A quick look around showed Mr. Salami had left us all alone in the Workshop. I was surprised because I didn't remember him leaving.

“I'm fine, I just . . .” I stopped and took a deep breath to prevent the tears from spilling out.

After a few blinks thankfully the tears receded and I was left with a crushing weariness and a clear view of Daniel's sculpted face which was, at the moment, sporting a frown that caused a crease between his eyebrows.