Must I go hungry before lunch?
After that incident with Anna, I'm not really sure if she gives me a green light for pursuit or was it all in my head. Regardless, I'm as curious and excited than ever before. It looks as if it's a scripted soap opera from a daytime television channel. A soap opera staring me and the most beautiful girl I've just noticed recently. How could I have been so oblivious, so stupid without realizing what an amazing girl she is. In term of appearance, she's second to none, not even to Jess. I couldn't get her long, straight black hair out of my head. How it slightly brushes across my left cheek. Boy, what a delightful feeling.
Not to brag but I can be somewhat of an artist. Aspiring to be a mediocre painter, I use a lot of my time in art class practicing oil painting. Funny enough, most of the other kids hate it. I hate the smell but I love the tone, it's so much more darker and mature, unlike water color or acrylic. It gives the painting an overall grayish ambient instead of being bright in contrast. Well, since you'll often get better than everyone else when you're trying harder, I'm pretty good at oil painting comparing to my fellow classmates. Landscape is what I prefer to paint, though the occasion portrait painting is fun as well. Art class is truly where I find my peace at school, away from the peer pressure and pretentious thug-like acting from tough guy wannabes. I get to hone my skill and push it further to where the Old Masters stay. I'm nowhere near their skill, but it is a goal worth striving for.
Unfortunately, sometimes I also get roadblocks where nothing I paint seems to be satisfactory. We have a period of one month where I work continuously on one painting and I struggle mightily for it. I keep painting and repainting layer upon layer but it just doesn't seem right. The composition is off, the mixed colors are uncomfortable looking, and everything just doesn't seem to work together. There's no unity in the painting. It is frustrating and I get angry at myself for being so incompetent. There were days where I just mix color for the entire period until what comes out looking acceptable.
Anna is also on my mind whenever I'm not painting but we have no chance to talk as she is getting busier and busier toward the end of the school year. I already know I won't go to a university but rather will study at a community college first. This puts off a lot of pressure from me as I don't have to compete with other students for admission in a popular university. Essentially, as Anna is becoming busier, I become freer by the day. As I have more time day dreaming, I start getting cold feet about asking Anna to hang out with me. Was she actually interested in me or all of it is just a string of inconvenience for her? Paralysis by over-analysis, I couldn't find the courage to ask her out as she just practically runs in and out of her classes everyday. We are too different, her family is well off and mine is poor. She's a determined young girl who wants to do amazing thing in the future. I'm just a guy who want to get by, to do the bare minimum and survive. I can already see it ending badly for me.
So here I am, painting furiously something I know I will paint over it again, thinking about a girl who may or may not consider me worthy of her. The high from that guest speaker incident is wearing off and I'm suffering the low of not being able to see her as much as I'm used to. Stupid teenage angst, I hate this shit so much. Everything would have been fine if I just pretend I don't understand their clues. Part of me is itching to know more, to discover what will it become, the other part is afraid how great a humiliation it can turn out to be. Bubbling with anger, I just run straight out of art class and run a lap right outside the building. I run as fast as I can, hearing the wind whistling in my ear, hearing my arms cutting through air in a hot summer morning. It doesn't take long for me to sweat heavily, my shirt is soak and I walk my way to the restroom to clean up. Coming back to art class, everyone looks at me like I just took the most intense shit in my life. I ignore them and resume painting and then a miracle happens.
It must be all the chemicals rushing to my brain. I never paint so fast before, everything is correct the first time, the tree branch, the autumn colored leaves, the mountain pass. Even a road painted yellow with brown spec of dirt makes sense in the painting. It was surreal for me as my eyes look at every details with sharper outline and clearer tone. I finish everything in an hour, saved for a few final touches. Just as I walk away from the painting, my fellow classmates nearby are already flocking over to see it. I put my painting utensils away and wash my hands while they look at my work incredulously. Exercise helps after all and it's helping me achieve a higher skill level.
I'm starting to get hungry now since it's getting close to noon. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday and in my anger, I ignore to gnawing sound coming from my stomach. The bell is about to ring and I need to get out real quick and grab a bite. The class is hanging out by the door before a group of girls tries to come in. I think they're in the art class after lunch and just try to save some seats together. I turn around to see who's coming and immediately, I smell that familiar perfume scent. Anna is laughing with her friends, walking through that door. I don't think she has art class so they must be just hanging out during lunch. She gives the room a look, surveying their location and available tables, then she sees me. Our eyes meet and linger for a split second before I look away. She walks with her friends toward the corner on the far end of the classroom. They are about to pass by my painting and one of the girl blurts out "Oh my god, that's beautiful!" and drags Anna back to see it. I heard but pretend to not notice and continue to wait by the door, acting like I'm eager to leave. They look at my painting, talking about it to each other, compliment how beautifully done it is and who did it. A girl nearby calls out my name and points at me. I flick my head up in acknowledgement and then smile. Anna is looking at me in amazement. There is a some admiration in her eyes and a little bit of affection, I think?
Her devious friend doesn't let this chance slip by and proceeds to pull Anna toward me. Smiling slyly, she says Anna is really curious on how I painted this "masterpiece" and tells me how they're really interested if I'm willing to sell it. Anna is standing in front of me now with her face looking down but her eyes looking up. That curious but self restraint look, showing that she wants to know more but at the same, is too shy to say it. The bell rings and I need to run to the cafeteria to grab foods, but Anna just stands there, a hopeful look on her face. Must I go hungry this afternoon?
Sometimes, I thank my parents for giving me quick thinking. I manage to ask them if they want to stay here and give me some lunch money and I'll go get lunch for them and me. The other girl says she brought her own lunch and Anna takes out seven dollars from her purse and drops them in my palm. I run out of the room as soon as I can. By the time I get to the cafeteria, it's already a long line in waiting. I walks in place impatiently for about ten minutes before it's my turn. I ask a chicken salad burrito for me and a spicy chicken for her with milk and tatter tots for both of us. Carefully, I carry our lunch back in a briskly pace before dropping them on Anna's table. We eat together with her friends, talking about the painting, how I struggle to get it right, then I ask about her classes and what's her plan for the future. The conversation keeps going and time just goes by so fast, fifty minutes are up and I look at the clock in utmost dislike.
Are these emotional highs and lows a signature of the teenager year? I'm just glad we are at a point where I can be comfortable talking to Anna. Before we part, she looks at me with a slight embarrassment and asks if I can draw people. I tell her I'm practicing on it daily but I'm not that good yet. She leans forward with a big smile on her face and in a cute, girlish voice, says "Draw meee". I push her forehead back with my index finger and replies "Maybe later". That is a real life Korean drama moment right there. "Ewww, why is your finger all sweaty. Did you go to the restroom and didn't wash your hands?". I'm pretty sure it's not what she's saying but how she says it, with a wide smile. A tease and a test roll into one.
I smirk, answer slyly "Possibly" and pick up my backpack. "Later, Anna" as I promptly walk out of the door and into my next class. I can feel her eyes looking at my back when the door closes.
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