It was another September afternoon at Evergreen County Middle School. The day had passed by rather quickly and it was almost time for dismissal.
As the bell for seventh period was about to ring, Montgomery de la Cruz was looking forward to his art class.
Montgomery wasn't a popular kid, but he wasn't a complete outcast either. He never really had close friends. He was independent and that's how he liked it. Friends meant communication and communication, by definition, meant having to talk to people. It wasn't that he was shy, but he wasn't fond of forced social interaction, or interaction in general. Monty was perfectly content to be on his own.
It was eighth grade, the last year of middle school for him. Nothing exciting had ever happened in Monty's life, but he was passionate about his art at least. It provided an escape from the woes of his day-to-day life. However pathetic it might seem, art was his rock in the middle of the raging sea he called home. Despite this, he never really told anyone.
Realistically, who did he have? His father was a drunk who'd rather spend his time fishing for change in the alleys and getting wasted at bars than with his own children. His mother was busy working two jobs to keep food on the table. And Estela, well, she was a bit too young to appreciate the world of art yet.
He had no friends, no pets, and no one to talk to about the joy art brought him. Not that he'd ever talk about his emotions though. His father taught him that happiness was something only found in movies and comic books from a young age.
Once the bell rang, Monty arrived to his two dimensional art class. He unpacked his sketchbook, colored pencils, and a few pens his mother bought him.
As Monty took his seat and prepared for class, an unfamiliar face walked into the room. It was a boy with wavy black hair and hazel eyes. His hair was longer for a boy's chin length and neatly styled. His clothing, a navy blue button down with grey colored jeans, looked expensive and he wore a thin watch on his left wrist.
Monty's eyes followed him as he crossed the room. There just so happened to be an empty seat next to him, and sure enough, the boy took it.
The boy gave him a slight smile and unpacked his backpack. Monty kept staring at him. There was something about him that caught his eye, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it yet. The boy looked back up at Monty and their eyes locked for a second before the teacher began to talk.
"Alright class, today we are going to be doing a group project. Everyone please partner up with someone, preferably someone who is near you."
Monty sighed. He wasn't overly fond of working with other people, he was used to always being alone and preferred it that way. Thus, he just kept sketching in his notebook, not bothering to look around and see who was available. If he was lucky, perhaps the teacher would just let him be to avoid the struggle of having to regroup everyone else. He rested his cheek on his hand, continuing to scratch the pencil across the paper.
Moments later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Monty turned around with an expression that was something akin both surprise and irritation. Much to his dismay, it was the new kid. It appeared that he was waiting for Monty to ask him to partner up first, but Monty remained still so he decided to do it himself.
"Hey, I like your landscape. What's it supposed to be?" the boy asked.
Monty tried making himself look irritated, hoping to shut the boy up, but there was something about him that almost forced him to reconsider that idea.
Instead, he decided to ignore the boy and continue on with his drawing. Wasn't there a saying about that? Ignorance is bliss?
"The Ninth Wave?" he continued.
Monty paused, sitting the pencil down against the table a little harder than strictly necessary. The boy seemed entranced, grinning in a passionate way as he glanced between Monty and the page.
"Yeah, how did you know?" Monty replied, only feeling marginally regretful about ignoring him earlier.
"I know Ivan Aivazovsky when I see it. It looks amazing so far. You really nailed the reflection of the sunlight on the waves. I tried to draw it once a few months ago, but I hadn't quite learned the proper blending techniques for a piece like that yet." the boy beamed.
Monty's irritated look and tone had faded as he looked away. Nobody had ever complimented him on his artwork before aside from the teacher, she was probably obligated to do so anyways. Perhaps he was wrong about this new boy.
He was about to reply when the teacher spoke, "Alright everyone, I assume you have already chosen a partner to work with."
"Partners?" The boy whispered, the same smile still plastered on his face.
"Okay," Monty agreed, only hesitating for a moment.
The assignment was to draw anything on one half of the provided paper. Each partner would do one side of the drawing to express their interest or personality. Since it was the first few weeks of school, it appeared to be one of the run-of-mill assignments that tried to coax people to open up and get to know one another.
As the teacher droned on, Monty fiddled with the pencil in his hands. He tapped his foot lightly on the floor, anxious to say something to the boy but still unsure of how to phrase it. While he would deny the emotion was guilt until his dying breath, he recognized that he probably should've given him a chance from the start. It was art class, it wasn't like he had much to hide anyway. He bit his lip, formulating a response in his head and rehearsing the conversation.
Monty didn't like the beginning of the school year because it's the time where you had to get to know everyone but more specifically, he hated how he needed to describe himself. There was really nothing he wanted to tell anyone, and even if he did, it would seem selfish.
The year seemed different, it was the last year of middle school before he would finally go to high school. Although he was perfectly fine alone, maybe it was time for a new friend or any friends at all.
When the bell finally rang and people began moving towards the exit, Monty saw his opportunity.
"Look man, I'm sorry about earlier. You seem like a good guy." he offered.
"No, it's fine. I get it." the boy laughed, waving his hand.
Monty smiled lazily, watching as the dark haired boy began packing his things.
"I'm Montgomery." he blurted before he could stop himself.
"Winston." came the reply.
He felt his cheeks redden as he watched the other boy walk away. His eyes followed him, observing the way his curls bounced slightly when he took a step. Maybe this project wasn't going to be as horrible as he'd anticipated.
