Not Ashamed

'Chapter Three ✓

I wake up to someone shaking me gently.

"Finn?" I hear Axel's voice in my ear. I turn my neck slightly, it feeling sore and crooked. "Finn! Get up!"

My head snaps up, my eyes flooding with colour from getting up too fast. Stupid head rush. I blink my eyes to clear them, rubbing my sore neck. I'll never fall asleep on that desk again.

"What time is it?" I murmur.

"8:15."

"What?!" I exclaim, pulling myself off the chair fast enough to knock it over. I grab the pages of unfinished notes and homework pages off of my bed and rush to put my shoes on. "Oh my god, oh my god! I'm so late! I didn't do anything last night, not a single page!"

"It'll be okay, Finn. There's no point in stressing out about something you can't change. It's too late now." Axels tone is soft, but I feel completely overwhelmed.

"I have to go, I'll see you later!"

I run out of the room, speeding toward my class. I pull the door open and silence my professor the second I walk in.

"Mr Harrison. You're late," he says with a frown.

"I-I know, I just... I slept in too late, and my roommate woke me up after he got up and I--"

He sighs. "Excuses, excuses. Do you at least have your homework from last class?"

My breathing stops harshly. I cough. "No... no, I don't, sir."

He looks exasperated and tired. He shakes his head.

"That's not good enough, Mr Harrison. Please, step outside the classroom until class is over. I'll speak with you then."

"But... But sir--"

"Now, Finnick."

I exhale, turning around and leaving the classroom. I sit down on the bench outside his room, pulling my knees to my chest. It's my second day of classes and I've already royally messed up. I'm such a disappointment. You'd think that after working every day to be my parents biggest regret I would take a day off.

I wait until the end of class and watch as the rest of the students flood out, some of them laughing quietly at me, while others give me sympathetic looks.

Professor Anderson opens the door and gives me a single nod toward the classroom, making me immediately pick myself up and rush into the classroom after him. He walks down the short steps to his desk. I stand in front of his desk, while he sits in his big black chair.

"Now, do you have any other excuses for me?" He asks tiredly.

"No, sir. I have no excuses. The work was simple and should have been done when you asked it to be. I'm sorry."

"Finnick, sit down."

I do as I'm told, pulling a seat from a nearby desk and pulling it up to the opposite side of his desk.

"Listen, it's only the second day, so I will let this pass. But never think that sorry is enough to fix a mistake in college. When you have a real job, important work not being finished will get you fired, you understand that?"

I nod solemnly.

"So, tell me. What was so interesting that it stopped you from doing your work? Obviously it wasn't just carelessness. I've met careless students, and the way you turned completely white when you walked in here shows you're not one of them."

"It was nothing specific. I just didn't do it."

"What's this?" Professor Anderson points to a single page showing a red bow that stands out among all the black ink. I begin to say nothing but he pulls the page from the rest of the crumpled stack in my arms. In horror, I watch his skeptical face as he looks at my drawings. "You drew this?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is good. You should enter in one of the contests we have around here."

I take a deep, slightly relieved breath. "No, thank you. I'm giving up on artistry. It's just a hobby now."

"A hobby that stopped you from doing your actual work?"

I laugh awkwardly. "It's a very time consuming hobby."

"Yes, well, this shouldn't take up the time you should be using for classwork, do you understand?"

I nod, shame and guilt filling me again. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again." I reach out to take the sheet back, but he pulls it away.

"That being said," he continues, making me settle back into my seat. "You have real talent here. Have you ever thought of taking up illustration as a career?"

Yes. My whole life. "No. It's just a hobby."

"That's a shame. You'd be very successful."

"I don't think so. May I be excused?"

Professor Anderson gives me a skeptical look before sliding the drawing back across the table to me. "Yes, but I expect your work to be finished for tomorrow's class. Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr Harrison."

"Thank you, professor."

I take the sheet and quickly rush out of the classroom.