𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃, chris sturniolo

021.

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₊❏❜ ⋮ ᶠᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᵍᵒˡᵈ ⌒
𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒-𝗈𝗇𝖾
ʳᵉᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

❝ 𝗂'𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌. ❞

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IT HAS BEEN TWO DAYS since Bianca lashed out on Chris bitterly. Acting at school has only gotten more challenging because the girl's anger has taken over her veins that pretending to be nice to Chris only infuriates her more. Sure, she might be dragging this far too much by holding a grudge; however, would you be alright if you were given the chance to fix things with someone you are besotted with, only for it to be ruined by someone else? It feels like they have been pushed back in time where they could not tolerate being in the act for longer than five minutes. Bianca would drop Chris' hand the moment they are out of everyone's sight, her walking away without uttering a single word as she heads out to her next class.

The bell rings loudly, a sigh of relief escapes her lips as she closes her notebook and stuffs it in her backpack. The boy beside her does so as well, stealing a glance at her for a moment. It has been like this all day; stolen glances that are somewhat discreet as they say nothing to each other. Though, that changes when Chris grabs a hold of Bianca's arm as she-attempts-to walk away from him. She pauses in her tracks, blankly staring at where his hand is before looking up at him with the same nonchalant look that has been painted on her face this entire day. Bianca searches for an emotion in Chris' eyes, only to see nothing; he is hard to figure out if she were to be honest.

"Can we talk?" The boy in a loose fit beige denims, white tee, and green-and-beige plaid shirt asks, his eyes locked into hers.

Bianca glances at the clock on the wall past Chris' head, seeing that the second bell will ring in mere minutes. Chris was expecting her to say something as her lips did part but instead, she pulls away from his loose grip and exits the classroom. Bianca doesn't look back, not even for a moment - she keeps her head high as she directs herself to her next and favorite class; art. The hallway is empty with the exception of a few students standing against lockers and on their phones, most likely ditching class. The sound of shoes against the porcelain tiles behind her is all that can be heard and the girl does not even need to look back to know it is the persistent boy who would not give it a rest.

"Stop following me," Bianca suddenly blurts out. Her voice sounded like a familiar song for a moment. It was somewhat hoarse, though her words sounded more grumbled; it sounded nothing like the soft, mellifluous voice he would always hear from her.

Chris smirks behind her, his left hand stuffed inside his front pocket with his the strap of his backpack hanging from his right shoulder. "My class is this way, sunshine."

Bianca decides to pay him no mind as she turns her direction to the left where her classroom is, opening the door to let herself in. The classroom is set up different today with the rows of easels formed into a circle with a big, white square wood platform in the center. Bianca goes to an empty spot, placing her bag on the ground before tying her hair up into a ponytail to ensure none of the strands get paint on them. Naturally, her eyes divert to the familiar silhouette that is also in the classroom. As she was about to tell the teacher, Ms. Kennedy, that he does not belong in this class, she begins to speak with a warm smile on her face.

"Everyone, for this unit, we will begin life drawing!" Mrs. Kennedy states. Not only does Bianca love this class, but she loves the teacher as well. Ms. Kennedy's curly red hair that is always put into a bun and secured with a paintbrush, and wearing long skirts that she paints intricate designs on herself - it inspires Bianca to show her full potential when it comes to art.