Saving The Broken Quarterback

2 | Halie Grace, The Beautiful New Girl

Halie Grace's POV

"Call me when you leave campus. I'll come pick you up. You can stay with me," my estranged Aunt Carol told me over the phone. I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the thumping pain while sighing. "Are you sure?" I asked softly. "I don't want to be a bother."

She blew out a frustrated breath from the other side and sighed. "Halie LeeAnne Grace. You will never be a bother to me. Do you understand?" she scolded in a motherly tone.

"Yes Aunt Carol. I understand. I have one class that I know of today, so I'll probably explore the campus until then. I'll call you later. Bye," I told her and ended the call quickly.

Aunt Carol wasn't even a blood relative. She had married an uncle of mine years ago. Even after his passing, she continued to talk to me. She offered multiple times for me to go stay with her, but I always told her no, that I was good at home.

It was all lies. I wasn't good. I wasn't happy. I wasn't safe. I was surrounded by cold hearted people. People who chose drugs over their child. People who thought it was okay to try and sell their daughter's virtue for money.

And they did. They drugged me and let a man use me like a rag doll. Once I was back in my right mind, I packed my belongings and got the hell out. There was nothing left for me in that place. Nothing I ever wanted to go back to.

My mother tried to stab me on my way out the door, but I dodged her attack and ran like hell. I lived in the poor side of town, but I saved up every penny I earned from my after school job. That along with whatever graduation money Aunt Carol sent helped me move over here.

I spent the first few weeks getting all my stuff transferred to the college I'm now attending. Realizing the time, I took off towards the art building. On my way there, I spotted the same guy that hit me with the door. He was sitting down staring out at the football field.

I quickly looked away from him and made my way inside in the building, sitting on an empty chair near the back. The professor came inside and scanned the room. "Halie Grace?" He questioned and I raised my hand. "Sir?" I asked and he smiled.

"Ah, there you are. Come see dear," he said and I walked over to him, ignoring the stares from the other students. "Welcome and you can use cubby 24. All your paints and other things you'll need are inside. Here's the rules for my class. Please have you fee paid by the end of the week if you haven't already paid them."

"Yes sir," I told him and made my way over to the cubbies in the back. I gathered all what I wanted to use and headed back to my seat. "So, today I want you to paint whatever comes to mind and sign it with your initials." The professor spoke loud and clear, causing every head to look in his direction.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, clearing my mind. When I opened my eyes, I smiled and lifted my paint brush. I moved the brush towards my canvas and let my hand work it's magic. When my hand stopped moving, I scooted back and admired my work.

"That's extraordinary Halie," the professor praised. I smiled and shrugged. "It's what I saw before class and it stuck in my mind. The sadness radiating off of him was too strong to ignore," I told him with a soft smile. "It's amazing Halie. You're very talented," he said before walking away to check out the other student's works.

"For your next assignment, create a piece of yourself. Show me how you see yourself," he stated and I swallowed hard. I grabbed a new canvas, carefully setting my previous one aside then reached for my brushes, once again letting my hand take over.

"Wow. That's beautiful," someone said and I turned around. A gorgeous Latina girl was admiring my work. "Thank you," I told her and smiled slightly. "You're like way too talented for this class. What's your major?" She asked and I smirked.

"Arts and designs," I told her with a laugh. "Damn girl. You're going to make it to big places in life with a talent like that," she said, causing a blush to tint my cheeks. "You're very kind. Thank you. What's your name?" I asked her with a tilt of my head.

"Macy Hargrove. Nice to meet you. We should definitely hang out sometimes," she told me before walking away to save her things. I looked around, noticing the room was nearly empty. I never even heard the others shuffling around me. Everything else disappeared when I was painting.

"Is that me?" A male voice questions as I was cleaning my brushes. I looked up and saw the guy from earlier looking at my painting of very well indeed him. "I'm sorry. Yes, I saw you on my way to class and I couldn't help myself. You had such a familiar aura around you and I just had to paint it," I told him, biting my cheek in embarrassment.

"I'm Ian and this painting is perfect. Someone finally sees me for the real me. Can I have it?" He asked, without ever looking my way. "Of course. It is a painting of you after all," I told him. "Thanks and again I'm sorry for hurting you. Do you need a ride home?" He asked and I clammed up.

My body went rigid and my breathing quickened. "Wh-what? Are you sure?" I stuttered out. "Yes. Is that okay with you?" He asked softly and I felt myself relax. His eyes were staring straight into mine. He had a mask on, trying to cover his true emotions, but I could see straight through it.

Every ounce of pain and sadness in his life portrayed itself through his eyes. "Yes I'm okay with that," I told him. In that very moment, I wanted to ease his pain. Make him smile and become happy. It would be the last thing I'd ever do. My goal was to make Ian feel alive again.