How To Paint Love [✔]

🖌 10. So Close To Home

Running as if we are chased by dogs, heavy pants resound beside me. It matches the rapid beating of my heart after racing back from the dorm to the Renoir Building.

"I swear to god, Maize, if the teacher is here and marks me late, you'll owe me lunch the whole week," I say while smoothening my dress right at the doorway of the drawing studio.

For all the times I have decided to wear a dress, it is this day when we're running late. Thankfully, I paired it with oversized chequered long sleeves that I have tied to my waist before we started our little marathon.

I loosen the long sleeves as we enter and wear them over the cream-colored shift dress. The hem falls between the trim of the skirt at the top of the white thigh socks. Good thing I have prepared chunky ankle boots for my outfit today or else, Maize will not just receive a simple glare from me. Also, lucky for her, the teacher is not here yet.

The drawing studio has scattered large tables with four to five seats each. The only empty spots are the front rows so we have no choice but to choose one of them.

"Let's go there. But remember, if I'm picked to recite later, you have to treat me to lunch, got it?" I say, pronouncing my words with emphasis to let her know how I dislike our seating arrangement.

I'm not dumb but I'm not the smartest, either. Average, so to say, with a deep hatred for recitation as much as I hate veggies. I just blank out most of the time. And what if I embarrass myself with the wrong answer?

"C'mon, girl. Imagine if I have not finished watching the whole series today, I won't be able to concentrate in class. And if I don't concentrate, I might fail, right? So this is just me doing a favor for myself and my parents," she says and drags a chair.

I wince at her reasoning and realize I won't win an argument with her. "Fine. Just fix your hair."

"Huh? Why?" She stares at me wide-eyed as if I am asking her to do the most difficult thing in the world.

"It's not a messy bun anymore, it's only a complete mess," I reply, giving her an eye-roll.

"Oh, Remy, why are you so picky? Wait, that actually rhymes!" She grins and sits down, sliding her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. "Don't mind it. My hair won't bite."

I let out a sigh and grab a seat. "Whatever. But don't forget the deal, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

We settle down just when the door slides open. But, it's not the teacher. Two guys enter the room.

One appears smiling but always has an untouchable aura around him and another blonde with sparkling blue eyes as he talks so enthusiastically.

The latter's eyes dart to us and I quickly avoided my gaze.

'Ignore, ignore, ignore.'

"Remy! Long time no see!"

But of course, he doesn't. After all, Sid has always been the friendliest person I know. If Terrence gathers people because of his looks and talents regardless of his hot and cold personality, Sid Horton is a ball of sunshine that absorbs all the extrovert energy in his body.

"Uh hi? It's been a while," I answer.

"Terrence did not mention we'll be classmates. Haven't heard from you for a long while. I really thought you'll visit me in high school but only Terrence came," he says and simply sits opposite me without asking. "I thought we were friends."

He's obviously bugging my conscience but how can I stay friends with him when he had been friends with Terrence way before me?

"I didn't know you'll pursue painting," I say, instead.