Chapter 25: To Be a Canvas

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"Move your arms." He demanded. "I'm going to write on you."

I pushed him away as he reached for me and yelped. "What?" I exclaimed, moving away as far as I could before his hand came down and blocked me in the corner. "No!"

He sneered. "So what, you get to draw on me and I don't get to draw on you?"

"No!" I insisted, though I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to explain my reasoning behind this. I sure as hell wasn't going to let him just draw on me like that. If I did that there was no denying that I was truly one of the greatest carpets of all time, letting everyone just walk all over me.

"I didn't even draw on you, all you've got is a little..." Observing his face only made me want to laugh, which wasn't great for making my point. I pointed at him, "That's nothing!"

"I have to look presentable." He hissed. "Unlike you."

I felt a flare of annoyance. "I look great."

He scoffed. "You dress like a homeless man pretending to be a student here. Your hair is a mess and your shoes look like they might be missing a part of their soles."

I glared at him. "My hair is like this naturally, what do you want me to do? Get a fucking perm? And my shoes are fine! The people checking my luggage at the airport cut into them for some reason, not my fault!"

He frowned. "You shouldn't wear them then, get new shoes."

This guy was worse than the teachers here. "Shut up, don't tell me what to do, you don't own me!"

His gaze grew dark in reply, he looked really pissed off, angry was probably an understatement.

He smiled. "Really?" He asked me, a sharp quality to his voice that made me look over his shoulder at the exit.

"Really." I confirmed, awkwardly slipping as I put my hand on the sink.

His glare was so dark I wanted to try washing myself down the sink drain but I knew that wouldn't work. I knew it for a fact, I'd tried once when I was four, under the influence of some very misleading cartoons. Unfortunate too, because it would have probably been my only chance at escaping Mr Prefect.

He towered over me, not allowing me to leave but also not saying anything. I looked sideways and couldn't help but think that he really shouldn't be putting his hands on the dirty walls of the school toilets like that. Of course I didn't say anything because looking back at his face I got the impression that one wrong word would incite him to bite a limb off.

I wondered if he ever looked that way around anyone else... because all day long I only saw him smile kindly at others, not kind as in friendly but kind as in not about to search for a spell that will set me on fire.

For some reason the idea that he disliked me so much irked me. Okay, I drew on his face, big deal, surely there were other people in his form that messed with him? He was a prefect after all, kids in charge of anything usually end up as the brunt of some jokes at least half of the time. I mean the kid that used to be in charge of collecting homework used to get teased all the time... but he did also have a birthmark on his upper lip that looked like Hitler's moustache.

"I-" I was about to continue protesting when I saw the expression on Jacob's face darken. He was fucking scary looking sometimes. And yet the way his eyebrows pointed sharply without creasing his face and paired together with his perfect nose and sharp clear eyes and thick lips. He was definitely a looker. I didn't always notice that but when he was angry like he was now it was especially noticeable.

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