Externalizing [mxm]

Chapter 3

Marc parked his car in one of the visitor parking spots outside the school. He debated just waiting for Ariel to get out, but decided he would check in anyways. He got his visitor badge at the front desk and went back to the art rooms.

Brendan’s class was actually working for once, so Marc almost felt bad about stepping in. Brendan was working on his own piece up on his desk until Marc was at his side. “Nice painting,” Marc commented. “But you should roll up your sleeves so you don’t get paint on them.” Marc gestured to them.

“I can’t. Dress code,” Brendan admitted with a sigh. “But I have paint or ink on nearly all of my clothes anymore so I don’t think I care. What’s been up with you?”

“Nothing much. Just admiring how they’re actually all working.” Marc glanced out over the class again. People were still having conversations, and there was music playing from somewhere in the classroom, but it was still settled down.

“Well something’s due tomorrow, so it’s crunch time. I’m staying an hour and a half after school too for anyone who wants to stay working in the art room, or doesn’t want to go home.” Brendan shrugged and put his brush into a cup of milky blue water.

“Doesn’t want to go home?” Marc echoed.

“I would have preferred to stay in the art room all night back in high school,” Brendan laughed. “it was comfortable and a cool place to hang out, without actually getting in trouble.”

“Were you a troublemaker?” Marc half teased. He could almost see it—Brendan getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“Well, I only ever got in trouble if I got caught,” Brendan stressed. “But even then, not really. Stole some food out of the vending machines, skipped some classes, that was about it. Are you a delinquent turned ultra-business man?”

Marc chuckled. “No, I didn’t cause trouble. Trust me, I wouldn’t dare step foot back in this school if I did.” He paused. “I graduated from here, actually.”

“Oh,” Brendan smiled impishly. “When?”

“About…” Marc stopped to do some math in his head. “Fourteen years ago?” It sounded so far off now that he said it, but he was only in his early thirties at that. “Why?”

“Because there are copies of every yearbook up in the teachers lounge, and I now plan to find your awkward high school pictures,” Brendan boasted.

Marc swore under his breath. “Oh, don’t. Don’t be that kind of terrible person.”

“What? Did you look super geeky?” Brendan questioned. “And now all the girls of your graduating class will want you at the reunion?”

“No, not really, just… I don’t think anyone likes looking back on high school,” Marc admitted. “Though I guess I did like actually going to school. But no one ever looks good on picture day.”

Brendan huffed in agreement. The end of the day bell rang, jolting them both. Brendan stood up quickly. “Have a good day, and remember I’ll be here for a while after school if you need to work on more projects,” he announced. “This is due tomorrow at the beginning of class!”