𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 — 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆

❝ 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 ❞

──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──

"The Dark Ages—"

"They're cutting art and music classes and you want to talk about the dark ages," Maya cut off Mr. Matthews, heatedly.

Matthews continued, "the Dark Ages were a time of cultural deterioration."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"The dark ages was the decline of the creative spirit of an entire continent."

"What about me," Maya pouted.

Matthews sighed, "the Dark Ages is when they cut art and music classes at this middle school, right now," he said looking at Maya, "and you, Maya Hart. Yes, you, Maya Hart, the one I'm looking at right here, can't paint anymore."

"You know, a good teacher lets their students get there on their own," Maya said.

Riley raised her purple paint covered hand, "Daddy?"

"Riley, if you put another purple cat on our fridge, I swear, I'm moving to Brooklyn."

"Scratch my nose," she pleaded, "I won't be dry until math and Mrs. Kravitz scratches my nose like she doesn't want to."

After Mr. Matthews tended to his daughter, he continued with his lesson, "so, why were the Dark Ages dark, Pippin?"

"People lost interest in art and music because it was taken away from them," Farkle answered.

"Well, I don't want that for Maya," Andrew spoke up from behind the blonde, "I want Maya to be happy."

Zay broke the silence in the room, "hey, Maya, looks like Andrew is gettin' all fired up on your behalf."

Maya sighed, "thank you, Andrew, but it's just an art class."

"I feel bad," Andrew continued, "they're taking away something you're really good at."

"You've never said that to me before."

Andrew rolled his eyes, "I've said it."

"Yeah, but not, like straight to my face when you are looking at me. I can't remember you actually—"

"You're a great artist, Maya," Andrew cut her off, "and I want you to get better and share it with people," he paused, "I don't want them to take away your art class, Maya."

"Bay window," Riley squinted her eyes, "bay window right in five hours."

"...Okay."

"Since we're on the subjects of talent," Lucas cut in, "has anyone seen Amanda?"

Matthews sighed, "she's been in the choir room all day with the choir director, brainstorming some fundraiser ideas or anything to save the program," he informed everyone.

"Is she okay," Riley asked, speaking Lucas's thoughts.

"I don't know yet."

──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──

Topanga's. That's where the gang found Amanda, who was staring at her hands, her face had no expression. The girl had been at the bakery since school had let out, and didn't care if her friends found her, she just wanted to be alone.

But her wish wasn't granted.

She was bombarded by her friends, who moved her to the couches surrounding the coffee table. She sat down, still looking at her hands, when Lucas sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. Feeling tears come to her eyes, she caved into the comfort and leaned into his side, her head on his shoulder. His grip tightened around the girl when he heard her sniffle.

"Well, you are harder to watch than usual."

Riley knew this wasn't good for her cousin and tried to stop him, "Zay—"

"I mean, all broken and pouty and stuff," he disregarded and shot out of his seat, "I mean, Lucas used to call me in Texas and tell me all about you guys. You were legends," he turned to Farkle, "the genius who's loyal and kind," he turned to Maya, "the brave blonde," he turned to Riley, "the caring brunette," he paused, looking at Amanda, he crouched down to her level, and wiped a tear that escaped her eye, "and you. He talked about you the most. Every time we talked, you would be the subject for hours. How beautiful you are, and how kind you are to everyone around you, and how wise you are. Of course, already knowing you, I knew all that but he wouldn't shut up," she teary eyed girl chuckled. Zay smiled as he reached his goal to make her feel better before continuing, "and Andrew, the one who would do anything for Riley, just to see her smile. He told me you were all full of fire. I don't see it. Where's the fire," he turned to Lucas, "you know what Lucas, these aren't the people who you were talking about."

"Yeah, except you've been here long enough to know that they are!"

Farkle spoke, "Einstein said we cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used to create them."

"Yeah. We need a different kind of thinking," Andrew said.

"Well," Amanda spoke, her voice raw, "we're trying to save the creative arts, why don't we start thinking creatively?"

Riley smiled, "there she is," she said, "oh, wise cousin of mine, you gonna be okay," she asked Amanda.

The girl sighed, "singing was always my escape at my old school. It was the one thing nobody could talk bad about, because nobody knew. Now that's gonna be taken away from me. My safe place is gonna be taken away from me. What will I have now?"

"You have us," she turned to Lucas, "you will always have us. You'll always have me."

──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──

"I'm asking you to slow down before this vote becomes final," Mr. Turner told the school board, "once these cuts are official, then art, and music, and drama, and dance—they're gone. I mean, is that really acceptable? It's not too late to do the right thing here. Thank you, Chairperson Sanchez."

"Thank you, Superintendent Turner. That was a lovely, impassioned speech. Let me see if it changes any of the numbers," she looked behind her, "no, I'm afraid not. Our next speaker is Isaiah Babineaux."

Zay made his way down to the microphone and smirked at the adults in front of him, "hello, Chairperson. Thank you for seeing me."

"Your welcome, Mr. Babineaux. We are happy to see a young representative of our school community, who is, I trust, going to address us with great respect for our process."

Just then, the rest of the group filed in while Zay answered, "no. That's not what's gonna happen. We couldn't reach you with logic, so we decided to think.... differently."

"Oh. Super," she paused, "okay, wait a second, what exactly are you going to do?"

"Bomp, bomp, bomp," Lucas started.

"ba da da," the group continued.

"Oh, Mr. Friar," Zay sung.

"Yes, Mr. Babineaux," Lucas greeted back.

"I like this room."

"This is a nice room."

Zay continued to sing, "so what do we to a room if we want to kill the...."

"A-R-T-S. Arts," Lucas finished.

"We do this," the friends tore down all the paintings and beautiful pictures from the walls, making the room bland and uninteresting.

"What are you kids doing?"

Amanda popped in, "the same thing you're doing to us," she shrugged.

"Not as interesting a room anymore. Get the picture," Zay asked the Chairperson.

Riley approached the front, "that's a very colorful scarf you're wearing."

"Thank you."

"May I?"

Riley took the scarf and starting doing a dance she called 'the loss of purple'.

After her dance, Maya stepped up the microphone, "my name is Maya Hart," she said, "this committee relies on charts and graphs. I have information to add to them."

"Please share it with us, Ms. Hart."

"You want numbers," she asked, "The United States ranking in math, science, and reading, has done nothing but drop for the past fifty years."

"Your proposal?"

"Get rid of 'em," she shrugged.

Chairperson Sanchez furrowed her brows, "cut math, science, and reading?"

"Why not? We stink at 'em," the blonde said, "but you know what we're number one at? Movies and music. People all over the world are inspired by our creativity. But hey, I don't want to get rid of anything. You started it."

"My hands are tied!"

"Yeah that's so funny," Amanda said walking towards them to stand next to Maya, "everyone keeps saying that, but they're not. Look, your hands are free, you just think they're tied."

Sanchez sighed, "I'm afraid you're out of time. We have a long list of speakers on the list today and we need to be getting back to them. Topanga Matthews?"

The woman went to the mic and cleared her throat, "I yield my time to these children."

"Cory Matthews?"

"Yield."

"Gabriella Kossal?"

"Yield."

"Yes. Super. Okay, wouldn't now be a time for an adult point of view?"

"Yield," all adults called together.

"Oh, come on!"

"The adults have failed them," Matthews started, "especially Superintendent Turner."

"Matthews!"

The gang took that as their cue to continue. Andrew started singing this time, the others followed, "oh, Mr. Farkle?"

"Yes, Mr. Canada?"

"Although you are a scientist, we are also told you have great creativity."

Farkle smiled, "why, yes. I sing and dance and am the greatest Pippin the world has ever seen!"

"I love Pippin," a chairperson mumbled.

"May we see some of it, please," Zay asked.

"No, you may not," Farkle declined, "there are no longer plays or concerts in this school. Instead I shall perform for you, a list of prime numbers."

"Oh, that's disappointing."

Farkle went up to the mic, "two, three, five, seven, eleven."

Everyone groaned.

"Thirteen."

Everyone booed.

Farkle went in front of the mic and started tap dancing, everyone cheered. It didn't last long as he continued to say numbers. Once he thought the chair-people got the point he said, "creativity feeds science, and science feeds creativity.  That's what you're missing, because you're not thinking creatively. Thank you."

Auggie stood up and went to the chair-people asking them if they had kids, and if they did they should take down their creations off the fridge, since that has to do with arts. The chair-people looked crushed.

This caused Riley to do another dance, which was more cringeworthy but just as adorable in everyone's eyes.

Lucas went up to the mic, "Ms. Matthews," he called to Amanda, "I am told that you can sing."

"I can produce a note or two," she teased.

"Would you do us the great honor," Zay asked.

Amanda went to the microphone and started singing,

"I have a dream

A song to sing

To help me cope

With anything—"

She was cut off by Andrew unplugging the speaker and Zay grabbing her mic, "sorry, no more music," she shrugged.

Zay took over again, "Chairperson Sanchez, with respect, you seem uncomfortable. Could that possibly have to do with your background?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she stammered.

"Oh. Let me be more specific," Zay said, "where did you do your undergraduate work?"

"Princeton."

"Oh, good school. Good school. What'd you study?"

"I don't see how these questions are relevant to today's proceedings—"

"Oh, you were an art major!"

The crowd gasped.

Sanchez scoffed, "yes, Mr. Babineaux. I have a degree in studio art."

Riley steppes forward, "a dance in which I graduated with a degree in studio art at Princeton University but then I get my hands tied," she was about to start dancing but Sanchez stopped her.

"I don't need to see that one. I lived it."

"Does it hurt a little," Maya asked, stepping forward next to Riley.

"It does," she sighed, "especially since one of the painting you took down was mine."

"Chairperson Sanchez," Andrew started, "got a favorite book?"

"Bridge to Terabithia."

"Un-read it."

"Favorite movie?"

"Wizard of Oz."

"Un-watch it."

"Oh, well you've just kinda taken away my whole childhood, haven't you?"

"When does it happen," Amanda asked.

"When does what happen?"

"When do you stop being able to think creatively?"

"When do you get your hands tied," asked Riley.

Amanda could feel Lucas's hand grab into hers as he spoke, "we don't want that to happen to us."

"You went to a great school," Zay said, "I'm sure all of you did."

"You're very smart," Maya told them, "you know this is the wrong way to think."

The gang started to walk away, but was stopped by Sanchez, "you didn't ask me who my favorite artist is. It's Picasso," she turned to Maya, "do you have a favorite artist?"

"All of them," Maya answered, "everyone who ever tried. Including you."

"You know Picasso painted a masterpiece called Guernica. Adults going to war on horses and swords. Except for one horse, who was horrified, at what the adult's were doing. He's horrified because he knows it's wrong. I've always loved that horse. And when I was as young as you, I made a promise to myself that if I ever to go war, I would never forget Guernica and the horse that knew better," she paused, "thank you, Ms. Hart, for reminding me."

The blonde shook her head, "no, thank you. I love learning about art, would have never known about Guernica and the horse if someone didn't care enough to teach me."

Sanchez nodded, "Superintendent Turner? You have been requesting all along that we remain patient."

"Well we're all teachers here," he said, "I think we can appreciate the value of a good lesson."

Matthews stood up, "Turner! My man!"

"Would you tell him to stop?!"

Sanchez continued, "I can't promise an immediate solution, but I can promise that we can try and think differently. To think as creatively as these students. Thank you all for coming, this meeting is adjourned."

──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──

Amanda and Lucas were sitting outside of Topanga's after school, laughing and talking about their days.

"So, how's the fundraising going?"

Amanda sighed, "it's not going too well but it's not going bad either. We're just glad people are willing to pitch in and help, but we don't think it will be enough to save the program if the chair-people don't come up with a solution."

Lucas grabbed her hand, "I have full confidence in you. You're Amanda Matthews, you can set your mind to anything and achieve it."

"Thanks, Bubba."

"Always."

──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──

edited: 26 feb 2021