[52]

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Tyler walks with me to class and we sit down. The bell rings and Mr. Davees claps his hands together.

"Well, good morning!" He smiles. "As you all know, we are now passed mid quarter. Which means... what?"

The class grumbles in unison, "We need to have rough sketches of our final projects done by the end of the week."

What? Where have I been that I don't know this?

"Tyler," I whisper to him while Mr. Davees continues. "Did you know about that?"

"Surprisingly yes," he nods. "Let me guess, you don't have any sketches yet?"

I shake my head and start ruffling through my backpack, "I mean, I think I might have one. Oh no. No, no, no."

"Is there a problem Miss Molina?" Mr. Davees asks. Half the class turns to look back at me.

I swallow hard and shake my head, "No sir. No problem."

Mr. Davees continues talking and the class turns back around.

"You okay, Lia?" Tyler whispers, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I can't find it," I look back through my bag, more quietly this time.

"Find what?" He asks. By the tone of his voice, I can tell that his eyebrows are pulling together.

"My sketchbook," I whisper, turning in my chair and looking across the ground. "It's gone."

"Maybe you just didn't bring it today?" Tyler suggests.

"No," I shake my head. "No, I always bring my sketchbook. I never leave it anywhere. My heart and soul is in the damn thing."

"Mr. Marks, Miss Molina. I hate to do this," he says quietly, setting two pink slips in front of us. "I'll see you after school."

I pick up the slip and slowly turn it over in my hand as he walks away.

"Detention?" I choke. You have got to be kidding me! It's like my life can't get any worse.

*****
Luke's P.O.V.

"

My existence can't get any worse," I pace around the garage, reminding myself of a very tense ghost I know.

"That might be a bit of an overwhelming statement, buddy," Alex says, sitting on the couch. He looks over the coffee table to what's sitting there. "It's just a drawing."

"Of him!" I stick my hand out at it. "Wha-what? What?"

"Isn't she paired with him for a group project or something?" Alex asks. "It's probably for that."

"What's the group project?" I put my hands together and bat my eyelashes, "My name's Tiger, oh draw me I'm so pretty?"

"He's alright, I guess," Alex shrugs, looking closer at the drawing. "He's got a great smile."

"Alex, focus," I snap my fingers in front of his face. I huff once before running my finger over my mouth, "I've got a good smile."

"Luke," Alex chuckles. "Buddy, you're jealous and paranoid. Stop worrying about what Dahlia's drawing, okay? I mean, do you have any idea how many times you're in this sketchbook?"

"I- well, I guess I don't," I admit. "I mean, the only reason why I saw this picture was because she left it out here last night, open and everything. I didn't look at it then cause I figured she'd come get it in the morning."

Dear Dahlia // B1Where stories live. Discover now