♈ Part Five: Clay Monkey ♈

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It was the lesson before art, and nerves were making my hands shake and my eyes flicker up to the clock every second until the bell rings. I didn't want to see Mr. Angelo.

He saw my dad, and the mess of my house.

I know for sure that nothing can mask the smell of weed stained in the curtains, or the bitter alcohol splashed onto the ugly-ass carpet.

Men love their beer and brandy, don't they? They'd be able to recognise the smell anywhere, right? Well, it's obvious that Mr. Angelo would know that someone in the house is a drunkard, and a druggie. He probably thought I was the druggie, seeing as there was no way a mother and father would do that. The thought alone hurts, I don't want him thinking I was one. I don't want to go into reasons why Mr. Angelo thinking that sort of thing would hurt me, because I guess I didn't want to be judged.

Most of all I didn't want to see his disappointment. Call me crazy but that sort of thing would drive me up the wall.

But what happens if he thinks the opposite?

What if he really does think that my parents are the drug abusers?

The bell shrilled loudly and I jumped a mile in the air. It sent waves of pain rippling though my ribs, and I angrily plucked my doodled notebook in my bag and placed my biro in my mouth to chew on.

What? I always chew my pens when I'm angry. I actually don't know why I was angry, but I guess it was because I had to see Mr. Angelo now.

I strode out the class and into the bustling corridor, trying not to let anyone nudge my ribs by protectively wrapping my arms around me and marching briskly towards art.

He wasn't there yet, and I was glad because I could quickly get seated somewhere in the back and cover my face with my long black hair. Sometimes I hated the length, but days and situations like these would always make me grateful for the fact that I keep it long.

"Sorry I'm late class, I lost track of time in the staff room." was Mr. Angelo's excuse five minutes later, and despite my struggle not to I looked up at his tall lean figure. I bet he was having the time of his life snoozing on the comfy sofas I imagined would be in there, darn teachers.

Only teachers would let us students suffer by giving them plastic chairs.

I let my eyes linger on his chiseled abdomen and upper chest more then I should've, but who could blame me? I mean, just because I had a boyfriend doesn't mean hot guys are any less hotter.

I have a feeling it should be illegal to have such a tight shirt that hugged all his glory. I mean, it's basically like he isn't wearing a shirt at all, the way it hugs him.

"Today we're going to do whatever we want, it's a day where you can use paint or crayons or even clay," the teacher started, and his golden eyes swept over every person in the class. I was one of the last people. "On monday, next lesson I think, we'll have a class discussion on every single one but we all are going to be anonymous to avoid self-embarrassment. Sound good?"

I found myself actually liking the idea, even if it meant I couldn't draw Jake, but I'm guessing that there is other things to do. I was in the mood for something light, with nice bright colours with just a hint of darkness. My speciality was pencil drawings, and second best was sculpting clay and all sorts and then paint. I'm not a huge fan of paint, be it water or acrylic, I'm just not that good.

I need a sheet of A1 paper, pencils and clay for mine. I'm thinking of doing both drawing and then sculpting it into clay.

Awesome, I mentally squealed.

Swift long strokes of the pencil was all it took for me to get lost in another world, and my hands did all the work with my brain only inputting its ideas with the mood. Grey lines, sometimes curved, turned into black on the white background of the paper when I pressed slightly harder.

Shading was second nature to me when I was in my drawing scene, and I decided the technique would be crisscrossing.

A monkey was slowly being created; his big brown eyes wide with mischevious thoughts, and thin lips twitching with devious intents. A large shotgun was hidden behind his small back and another monkey, a girl this time, was babbling on about if her dress makes her butt big or if this shade of red lipstick was too bright for her hair-trimmed skin.

"That looks amazing,"

I jumped, my pencil dropping from my hands when I stopped to admire my work. "Huh?" was my ingenious reply as I turned my head around to see him.

"I said your work looks amazing," Mr. Angelo repeated, and a small smile tempted my lips.

"Thanks." I replied, all too aware of how close he was to me and the delicious scent of Armani made me inhale deeper. Smells so nice.

He moved back and analysed my work closely, his light brown eyes sweeping over every curve and back again. I held my breath, nervous if he spotted any mistakes. "The shading works well, the cross-crossing, with the animation and adds to the humorous mood," he said at last, and I sensed a 'but'. "But bright colours would work better than black, grey and white."

I nodded. Phew, nothing serious. "This is just a basic sketch to help me with my clay modelling, and then I'm going to add bright colours of acrylic paint to the dry clay, after its been in the kiln obviously, tomorrow after school."

He glanced at the sheet again, and then at the clock. "It won't be done by Monday. We only have half the lesson left today, so maybe if you start the modelling now, you can finish it off tonight after school, it'll be in the kiln for more time so then it will be easier to paint tomorrow after school."

I pursed my lips, this meant less time with Adrian. I weighed my options. I guess I can always sneak out if it comes to that. "Sure, why not? But I got a quick question,"

"Ask away."

"Are we allowed to take the finished product home?" I asked, feeling slightly silly.

He chuckled. "Yeah, of course."

"And after school can I bring a friend?"

He nodded.

Boo-yah!

Maybe I don't need to sneak out after all.

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I'm so sorry to all of you that read my story (not that many, but eh? Who cares?) but this is all I have time for today.

I don't even have a reason why I uploaded such a short chapter, I guess I'm getting too lazy.

I'm super sorry, again, but the iPad battery is low right now and I have a feeling its going to turn off soon. And I mean soon soon.

Bye bye, wattpadders, I'll see you all another day.

P.S. if I have gotten anything wrong with the arty part, I'm sorry (I'm such an apology whore, right?!) because I'm only thirteen (and ten months but eh? Who's counting) and I'm trying to write as an eighteen or seventeen year old.

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