In A 100 Days

Since when did people at school look like Vogue models?

It's pathetic really.

Pinning and daydreaming about a guy you know will never be yours. Especially one who has a girlfriend. A unfairly beautiful one at that.

I sigh quietly at myself, and  sit up straighter. I was sitting on the empty bleachers watching Caleb's football practice while simultaneously wondering how It was possible to run that fast, and not collapse on the floor in exhaustion. I can't even walk a few steps of stairs without panting like I ran for the olympics.

oh, that reminds me! I need to sign up for a gym.

Ok, I know it's really creepy to watch someone while simping, But a girl can dream, surely. And I know for a fact I'm not the only one who does this too.

"C'mon Boys! My great aunt can play better than this! And she's blind. I need you all in tip top shape to completely crush the other tea- I mean, we need to play our best to win" Coach Helen yells at the team from the field.

I see one of the jocks roll his eyes and whisper something to the guy next to him, prompting them both to snicker.

Helen seems to have heard as her her eyes narrow at him.

"Why don't you say that out loud Andrew? We'd all like to laugh too."

Andrew's posture stands taller, his air of cockiness so grossly obvious. "Nah that's alright thanks, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," she snaps.

Andrew puts both his hands up in a signal of peace. "Woah, alright. Calm your tits, gorgeous."

Helen is a tall, athletic woman with the perfect balance of both femininity and masculinity . Her shoulder length ink black hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she's wearing a grey T- shirt and black shorts. Her tattoo of a rose and it's thorns is on display from her shoulder to her elbow and her infamous piercing black whistle is around her neck.

She's assertive, and confident and doesn't take shit from anyone. And from the look on her face, my guess is that Andrew is about to find that out very soon.

Helen picks at her fake nails, almost bored as she speaks, "15 laps around the whole perimeter, Andrew . Then you can get your ass to the principal's office and explain exactly why you've just been benched."

Andrew goes pale and his overly confident exterior begins to dissipate. "Coach, c'mon I was just joking-"

"Make that 20 laps, and if you keep talking I'll keep you running the rest of the school day. It'll give your mouth a break."

Andrew has no choice and starts to run around the field. I and the rest of the team watch, laughing. Helen smirks, and I just know she's enjoying watching Andrew suffer.

I hear the school bell ring, signaling that it's lunch hour.  I stand up and pick up my sketchbook. Walking down the bleachers to the ground, I
I make my way to the school, planning on going to my second favourite place after the library.

The Art room.

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I cautiously open the door, and peek in.

Phew. No one else is here.

I walk in and close the door behind me. I work better if I don't have too many people around.

I get to my usual spot and sit down, setting a blank white canvas and reach into my handbag for my headphones. I connect my phone to them, and put on a song on my spotify playlist.

I pick up my paintbrush, and hover my hand in mid air, trying to decide what I'm going to paint today. I close my eyes and think, humming along with the song.