Out of reasons (Boy × Boy) ✔

Chapter Three

Am I the only one who likes to wake up early just so I have time for a nap before I have to leave? That sounds complicated, let me explain. If I have to be somewhere 8 am, I wake up 6 am just so that I can snooze from seven to ten to eight.

Of course I could just wake up a little later and not go back to sleep, but it feels incredible to get to close your eyes again even for a moment.

My first school day wasn't an exception. First I had coffee and cereals, then I washed my teeth and went back to sleep. I didn't fall asleep, so I just lied on my bed eyes shut and listening to music.

When the alarm rang again, I asked myself (not for the first time and most likely not for the last) why I was doing this torturing nap thing in the first place.

Then I grabbed my reusable coffee mug and initiated to look for the classroom while sipping my steaming coffee.

I got lost, of course, and then I was late.

Seriously though, who would think to look for the classroom behind an old rusty door? Apparently me, although it was more luck than knowledge. It wasn't just the door but the old squeaky spiral staircase that followed after it.

I found myself in some kind of a basement that looked more like a bohemian bomb shelter. I would have turned around, because there was no way I was in the right place, if I hadn't heard a woman's voice lecturing about tempera paints.

"..tempera isn't a flexible paint, so it doesn't work on canvas. As we want to avoid cracks.. Are you lost?" the teacher, a tiny dark haired woman asked when I walked into the classroom. Needless to say everyone was staring at me.

"I was, but I hope I'm no more", I said and they started laughing even though I wasn't trying to be funny. "Is this the Advanced fine arts class?"

"You must be Daniel", the teacher figured out and gestured me to find a vacant seat amongst my new classmates.

I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings when I sat down, keeping my gaze on the teacher. But then someone poked my shoulder and leaned so close to me his cheek was only inches away from mine.

"Oh, so we're not only neighbours, but also classmates." I think you can probably guess to whom the voice belonged.

"It seems so", I whispered back without looking at him. Was I intrigued, though, absolutely. Did every cell of my body sense his proximity? Absolutely. Was I going to show it? Absolutely not.

"Now I want you to paint something with perspective. It can be anything as long as there's multiple layers", the teacher said.

"There's paper, the rest you should have with you", she instructed and pointed a rickety table that was covered with a stack of paper.

I was the last one to made it to the table and I thought I would have to wait until everyone else had gotten their papers, but I was wrong.

Joakim threaded back to me with two sheets of paper. He was smiling widely and I have to admit it made my heart skip a beat or two. Just a tiny little gesture, I know, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't touched.

"Want join us, we're going to the backyard?", Joakim asked and I knew without saying who were going to come with us. "The teacher said it's fine. We can find inspiration from nature or something."

The backyard was a bit of an understatement, by the way, because right behind the school was that unimaginable lake view. There was a small gravel pathway to a wooden dock and all around the dock unfolded water that gleamed in sunshine. Not to mention the old threes on the shore and the blue cloudless sky. It was right from a postcard: almost too beautiful to be real.

We settled down at the end of the deck. I dug a pencil case and all the painting accessories from my back as the idea began to build up in my mind. I was going to paint part of the dock as the first layer, then water for the second and the third one would be the opposite shore.

The idea in my mind seemed great, but I doubted the actual painting was going to look that vivid. No matter how good the idea was, my hand didn't obey.

Fareed rolled a joint and before anyone (but me) started to sketch, the joint circled from one to another. I shook my head, because there was no way I was going to do something so reckless.

"Don't you know it doubles the risk for schizophrenia? It can also cause bronchitis and impair your memory." It seemed like no one followed me.

"What are you? A Wikipedia?"

"No, not really, but I do remember most of their articles", I answered without taking my eyes from the paper I was sketching on.

"Fine, but don't rat us out." Fareed huffed.

My painting didn't quite look like I had planned, but it wasn't compeletely awful either. We had been there almost three hours and most of the time we had focused on our task, so we had conducted ourselves exemplarily. Minus the narcotics, but let's not be so blow-by-blow.

Then we had a lunch break. Turned out the food at the canteen was exquisite. They spoiled us with not just one but four different kinds of vegetable patties. Not the watery kind you find from a freezer, but the kind that's crispy and perfectly cooked. The others weren't as happy, since "how could one survive a school day without protein". I savoured mine and felt strangely happy and vibrant.

"So what's your deal?" Joakim asked.

"What do you mean?" I didn't understand that kind of questions. Did he mean why I enjoyed my vegetable patties so much, why I was late in the morning or what was the meaning of my existence?

"That Wikipedia thing for a start. What was that all about?" he defined.

"I have eidetic memory, so I remember everything I read, and I like reading — so I remember a lot of things." I realized Viljo and Fareed had quieted down and listened to our conversation.

"Everything? Like let's say what's the number of pi?" Joakim lifted an eyebrow.

"The first hundred digits are 3,14159 26535 89793 23846 26433 83279 50288 41971 69399 37510 58209 74944 59230 78164 06286 20899 86280 34825 34211 70679."

"Who was Ted Bundy?" Viljo joined the conversation.

"He was a serial killer, rapist and necrophiliac in the 1870s."

"What's the most expensive car?" Fareed asked looking almost too self-assured.

"Cars are boring.. but it's Bugatti La Voiture noire."

And it went on and on..

"What's lepidoterophia?"
"Fear of butterflies."
"What was the most popular baby name last year?"
"Liam for a boy and Charlotte for a girl."
"What's the population of the world?"
"7,8 billion."
"What's the population of China then?"
"1,440,193,555."

As you might have guessed, the others had found their phones and seemed to find the game entertaining. The canteen had already emptied around us, and by the time someone figured to check time, we were late for the class.

"You're so my new study partner", Fareed said and placed his arm on my shoulder as we were hurrying to the classroom.

"Just keep dreaming", Joakim laughed to Fareed and then, just like that, I felt his fingertips brushing my arm. It lasted a couple of seconds at most, but his touch lingered on my skin.

We were all exhausted by the time the teacher said we were free to go. We had started 9 am and we were done by 8 pm. Even if it was "just art" it was surely a lot to take for a first school day.

All I had energy to do after the classes was to shower and eat noodles on my bed wearing a faded Alice in Chains t-shirt and boxers. The flat was like a sauna, which probably had something to do with the old heater. I should do something to fix that, but that would have to wait for some other day.

I felt tired, but in a good way. My limbs were stiff and eyelids heavy, which was no wonder since I hadn't done anything full-time for a while. A substition job here and there, but not even those since dad's death. Studying here was a big change for me, and hopefully in a good way too.

When I fell asleep it was one of those nights when you're glad the alarm was set in advance for the week: I didn't feel sleepy until I was already fast asleep.