Arty Farty

At some point, I must have caught a cold. I couldn't stop sneezing or sniffling, not to mention my head ached. The fatigue didn't help much either, which was how I found myself lying in bed. I had a sketchpad lying in wait on my lap and my laptop sitting by my legs with the brightness turned all the way down.

"How are you feeling today?" Skylar asked from the video-call function on Date of Fate.

I sniffled, unable to breathe through my nostrils. "I've been better, but I think it's just a cold."

He chuckled. "Well, you can relax for a while as we draw." He paused for a moment, clearly fidgeting with something I couldn't see.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to hide the odd, Muppet sound of my voice. I suppose that couldn't be helped much.

Skylar shook his head. "I was just wondering whether you're sure you'll be up to participating in the online art class still. It was a last-minute thought, so we could just cancel—"

"Skylar, I'll be perfectly fine," I said, crossing my heart.

He nodded, clicking at something on his computer.

A moment later, a message notification popped up on the screen of my laptop. I clicked on the link and entered the virtual classroom. I quickly made a point of turning my camera and microphone off as requested in the classroom chat instructions.

I pulled Skylar over at the other side of the screen, making sure that I could still see him. I smiled weakly at him, trying to muster some of my old self back, but all that was left was the cold goblin!

"How do you think we'll do?" he asked, preparing a pencil and his sketchpad on the table he sat at.

I shrugged. "Awfully?" My voice grew high-pitched as I threw my hands awkwardly in the air.

He laughed, pointing the pencil at me. "Well, if we are going to do awfully, let's make sure we're the best at being awful, shall we?"

I nodded in agreement.

The tutor for the art class came onto the other side of my screen. He wore such an array of colours that it looked like someone vomited a rainbow onto him. An easel with a canvas stood behind him. Instantly, he began to direct the class of what to do to produce a self-portrait.

With each instruction, my pencil scrawled across the paper of my sketchbook. I wasn't the greatest at the self-portrait style, so I added some creative liberties to make it look as though I didn't just draw like a three-year-old who'd just picked up a pencil that day.

I looked up momentarily to see how Skylar was getting on. With his tongue sticking out, he used effortless brush strokes with his pencil. Every so often, I would catch him chewing on the end of the pencil, deep in thought. Maybe it was my hazy brain filled with nothing but the cold, though I couldn't help thinking how cute he looked.

My chest bubbled as I turned back to my drawing, trying my best to keep up with the remaining instructions.

The finished product was nothing much to look at. It was just a small anime-like drawing of myself. I turned it around at the same time as Skylar turned his drawing around for us both to have a look at.

Neither of us laughed as we chirped at the same time, "It's not too bad."

"Not too good, either," I responded, taking another peek at mine.

He smiled, glancing over the scraggly curls of his hair and the curves of the pencil outline of his portrait. "Maybe we are too hard on ourselves."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "It's better than nothing."

As Skylar was about to say something, the frames became jittery, pausing every few moments with the odd sound coming through. I tried to move the mouse, but it was stuck in place, scarcely moving at my command.

I sighed, understanding that the old laptop was tired. I held down the power button until the screen went completely dark, allowing myself to lie back and gaze around at the lonely room.