Growing Up With My Mate

13. Differences

Since Harris came back to school, I’m noticing other differences in him as well.  Apparently, he’s a player now.  Not only is he seeing Clara, but also shamelessly flirts and kisses other girls as well. He even seems to have more of a cockier attitude about him. 

If or when we ever find ourselves in the same room, our conversations are short and simple.  What I once found peace when talking with him, it’s now filled with anxiety.  I don’t know which Harris I’m going to get- the douchebag who think he’s alpha s**t or the one that made my heart flutter.

I’m walking towards my study hall class, the one I have with Harris, lost in thoughts with my head down. 

“Oh my goddess! Brighton! Tell him to let go of my hand now!”

I look up not knowing where that came from.  Then I hear Dustin’s laughter. “Never kitten.”

I turn around and Dustin is dragging Sally down the hall, holding her hand like it’s a lifeline.  I start smiling at my best friend.  He apparently got his answer today. 

“Hey guys, going to class?” I ask sheepishly. 

“I’m walking Sally to her class, because, you know, I’m a romantic like that.  Isn’t that right pookie?”

Sally is seething.  It’s hilarious.  “And I told YOU that doesn’t make any sense because your next class is on the other side of school!”

Dustin shrugs as he pulls her along. “Catch you later Brighton!”

As they pass by I see a small hint of a smile on Sally’s face.  I start a goofy smile of my own- I’m just so happy for my friends.  A large arm lands across my shoulders and I jerk my head to the owner.  “I sure hope that smile is for me,” Harris says, grin on full blast.  Cocky arrogant Harris it is for today.

 “Actually no.  Dustin and Sally finally got together and I’m happy for them.”

“Good for Dustin, he got a good one. I’m happy for him. Sally too of course,” he says with a sincere smile.  I smile at him and he smiles at me.  My old Harris. 

We steer into class and Harris gets bombarded with a girl whom I have no clue of.  She grabs Harrison’s free arm and tugs him towards her, his arm leaving me.  “I got us some seats in the back babe,” she says suggestively. 

“I’m tired today baby girl. Going to take a nap.  You wanna rub my neck for me?”

She nods eagerly, like she got first place in the ‘touching Harris’ race.  I shake my head and sit down on the other side of the room.  No need to torment myself.  “Hey there gorgeous.”  I instantly smile and look up at Mark.  Ever since Harris came back, he switched his schedule to match (true bromance), and so I get to see him for study hall too.  “Hey you.  You actually going to do work today, or try to distract me from doing mine?”

He pulls his desk right next to me and sits down.  “Oh today, I’m totally sleeping.  We had an early training session, so I’m just going to fall asleep to the sounds of your sketching.”  I laugh at him as he puts his head down.  To help him along, I start rubbing small circles on his back.  He lets out a hearty moan against his desk. “Girl, keep doing that and I’ll find something else you can rub with your perfect hands.”  I laugh as I pull my hand away. “Gah, your so crude!”  That earns me a chuckle.  I get my sketchbook out and start doodling.  About 5 minutes in I hear Mark’s breathing leveling out.  That was fast. 

Throughout the hour I hear chuckling from that girl.  From the corner of my eye I can see Harris turned around in his chair, head on her desk.  She’s massaging the back of his neck, hand disappearing into his shirt then back up into his hairline.  Remembering that I did that once before (although less seductively), an emptiness forms in my chest.  I didn’t realize I paused sketching until Mark sits up, stretching. 

“You done drawing today already?”  I give him a small smile. “I guess.  Just thinking about things,” I say, shrugging my shoulder.  I glance over towards Harris and when Mark follows my gaze, the bell rings and I pack up and leave.  I do not need sympathy from Mark about my stupid crush on Harris.  I need to find a way not to like him.  He’s not the same guy I knew. 

           I go to my sanctuary- art class.  I’ve kept Mr. Chapman as my art teacher, just moving up levels each year.  I’m in advanced art class now, most of the students in here being seniors.  Mr. Chapman has been a great mentor to me and I can tell how much my art has improved over the years with his guidance.  Being in advanced art is great, because we get to help with outside projects that Mr. Chapman works on.  A few of us helped him with a wall mural out in the city a couple weeks ago.  We also get to go help with volunteering at orphanages teaching art class to preschoolers. 

Our focus of the week is shading.  So we have a still life of fabric and we need paint it 4 different times, each time using a different color of monochromatics.  As I’m setting up my paints, Mr. Chapman calls me over to his desk. 

“Brighton, I just want to go over the course with you.  Since this is a class for seniors, I just want you to be aware that they are going to start their thesis themes.  Their subjects of choice.  You can either participate or I can give you different assignments.”

“What does the thesis theme mean?”

“It means that you take an area of interest, say birds.  You will build a collection of art pertaining to that.  The goal is to build a portfolio and work diligently on that subject matter for the remainder of the year.  At the end of the school year, we help seniors take slides of their work to present to art schools or their perspective college to earn credits.  I think it would be beneficial for you to follow with your classmates.  It will help you for next year, building your portfolio for college.”

The more he explained the concept to me, the more eager I became.  I expressed my concerns about finances, being able to afford college, and he said he would be happy to provide me with scholarships I could apply for, especially for art schools.  “I can tell this is a passion for you Brighton. I hope you consider the possibilities.  Your talent shouldn’t be confined to just your sketchbook.”  With that, I left to start on my class project.  Just the possibility of going to art school gave me a new hope to start working towards.