That biology lesson was pathetic.

Have you ever went into a lesson expecting to learn so much from someone who surely has a degree in the subject that they specialise in but instead you  came out questioning everything that you thought you knew about that subject, asked yourself if the teacher knew what they were talking about or simply just wanted to know if you could get a refund from the school?

Not only was 'Mr Terry' a pest but he was also a quite a useless teacher. Poor communication skills, arrogant, impatient and often mentioned irrelevant things.

So what did I have to do that year and the year after?

I had to watch YouTube videos, do further research and I had to teach myself biology. We were always relieved to hear the bell at the end of every lesson. Some students started study groups and cooperated in trying to make sense of the textbooks together. Until one faithful day; he had announced his retirement.

In our freaking senior year.

At the end of that lesson we all packed our bags and got ready to leave.
"Jessica, do you know where the art class is?" I asked her before leaving down the aisle  "Uhh, it's below this class and two doors to the right, it's not hard to miss because it has lots of paintings on the outside walls," she answered while packing her bag and running to her next lesson.

I have been in love with sketching, painting, sculpting and crafting from the age of seven. I took pottery classes in kindergarten but I didn't know that it would be my passion. My parents had their concerns about me taking it up as a school subject and became even more concerned when I told them that I wanted to major in it. They considered it to be more of a hobby and saw it as an unnecessary subject. They also used to get a little disturbed when they saw my sketch book with all the depressing sketches in it, but they didn't know that those sketches were a form of self-expression.

Well at the time they didn't know that it was.

I wouldn't say suffered from depression, I just felt that living a simple routine was a waste of time. It lead me to a point where it was hard to fit in with people my age because I didn't get live the way teenagers my age did. It made me feel left out. Being negative was not something that just came naturally. It developed over time and got worse once I experienced the loss of an important family member.

It was a little ridiculous for my parent's to expect me to find the end of the rainbow in my bedroom. Staring at those four walls just brought misery, but I kept my emotions to myself and most of the time I tried to ignore my feelings.

'One more year then I'm out,' is what I constantly told myself to ease the pain. My smile was just a facade and my mind was a dark, bitter place.

Anyways...
I left the biology room and followed Jessica's instructions. I took my time since my next class was not that far and the hallway was not as crowded as it was after a.m. registration. Most of the kids in this school were very laid back, it was almost as if they didn't care.
And after having spent two years in that  I think it's safe to say that they never did.

I noticed that some students were looking at me in a very strange way then after whispering amongst each other they start grinning.' Is there something wrong? Do I look out of place? Is it my outfit?'

But I should've known that physical appearance wasn't everything and if I could time travel, I would've went back to tell myself what the real reason for their act of madness was really about.

I continued to walk to a door that was covered in beautiful artwork. Jessica was right about the art class. There were so many beautiful artworks outside and inside the classroom. The class was way different from the biology room. There were double desks joined together to place two people next to each other kind of like my homeroom but with bigger desks. I didn't regret taking visual arts as one of my classes then and I most certainly do not regret it now even though what I'm Currently doing doesn't necessarily involve art.

What I'm currently doing is a story for another time.

I agree with the experts who said that school kills artists. Even though art class promotes creative thinking, they still prevent students from having an open mind and expect their work to look a certain way. The need for high marks fools us into thinking that even our masterpiece will never be good enough.

The class is kind of smaller compared to the biology class simply because not many students took art as a subject. I looked for a place to sit somewhere near the front and next to a window. I was the first to arrive.

Unforgettable achievement.
The class slowly started to fill up. I was astounded by each painting, drawing and sculpture. For the life of me, I could not figure out why everyone kept giving me a strange look.

Well, not necessarily strange, but the glances felt strange.

For a moment I thought it was because I was the ' new kid', but then this happened:

"So this is the badass who told their biology teacher off," I heard a familiar voice say. I looked up next to me to find the same hazel- eyed boy who helped me find my biology class.

"What?" I asked bemused. Hazel eyes found my reaction amusing. It took me a while to realise what the ' strange looks' were for but it only took me a matter of seconds to realise that sir hazel had quite the witty personality. I was intrigued. He wasn't wrong about us "seeing each other around".

Not exactly right either.

I didn't think we would be in the same art class but I should've known that he would be associated with art in some way.

It was clearly visible in his appearance."How did you find out about that?" I asked."This is Bellevue, word gets around faster than you think." He laughed.

'Oh crap Kourtney Kidman.'

So I got my reputation on my first day. Not the reputation that I was expecting and when I thought about it, it didn't seem like such a bad one. Too bad it didn't last long enough.

' A reputation on my first?' Was what I thought.' How bad can this school be? News spreading like a wildfire, but how?' 
That was only the tip of the iceberg. As for hazel eyes...
He decided to sit next to me. I couldn't tell if I was excited, scared or pissed because: One; did not want to sit alone, two; he made me slightly anxious and three; had a feeling that I was going to have to put up with his behaviour.

But did I do anything about it? Did I want to do anything about it?More importantly: Did i regret not doing anything about it?

"Am I seriously being called a badass?" I asked him."I've heard the tale from three different people on my way to this class," he answered.

Before I could interrogate any further, a short lady with black straight hair walked in. She had sort of a hippie-like style. Mr Terry may be a rememberable teacher, but this teacher was legendary.

She pushed me to reach my full potential and taught me to expand my mind by thinking more creatively."Good morning class," she said nonchalantly. "Today you'll be taking down theory notes."She turned on a project that lit up on a white board and presented a set of visual cultural studies notes. "And who is this?" She asked, directing her attention to me. The class of ten students looked at me.

"That's badass Kourtney Mrs Kooper," shouted a voice from behind me. "Spencer, I am sure the young lady can speak for herself," she said. The whole class ouu-ed and ahh-ed at Mrs Kooper's clap back."I'm Kourtney... Mrs Kooper," I answered almost uncertain of myself. "Welcome to our class Kourtney," she said with a smile. She seemed incredibly laid back and she was the most calm teacher in the school unless someone pushed her buttons.

She was very friendly compared to my biology teacher, I suppose that's why she did not reprimand Spencer for his rude comment. I took out my notebook to jot down all the notes she had projected onto the white board.

I accidentally knocked over a cup of paint brushes that were left in the middle of the desk. I immediately panicked because one of those paintbrushes had wet paint on the the bristles and just so happened to land on Hazel eyes. The rest of the paintbrushes fell to the floor.
' Embarrassing.'

Aside from the embarrassment, I felt extremely bad for hazel eyes because green acrylic paint messed a small area on his jeans. "I swear it was an accident!" I grabbed a paper towel from the windowsill and tried to get the little bit of paint off. It was pointless because everyone knows that acrylic paint stains. "You are so dead," he exaggerated sarcastically."It's fine, just help me pick up the paint brushes," he smiled.

We both got onto the floor to pick up the paint brushes that rolled under the desk.

'This doesn't look at all,' I thought even though I knew that it looked wrong and it was so embarrassing.

"I'm Trent by the way," he said whilst picking up the brushes. I remained silent as I picked up the rest of the brushes from the floor. Either was shy or I just didn't know what to say; which was strange because I was no introvert.' It's like he's drenched in cologne,' was a thought that I decided to keep to myself. Once all the brushes were picked up I continued to take down the notes.

I never had trouble with observing or identifying people's characteristics and I did manage to unravel the bits and pieces of Trent but some things didn't add up. The skull on his shirt said a lot, but his respect said otherwise.

' Bad boy' is a cliche description and something told me that his surface appearance was not going to tell me everything that I wanted to know. I sensed that there was more to him.

"You're awfully quiet ," he said. "You haven't met me yet, so I wouldn't be jumping to such conclusions if I were you," I clapped back.

It wasn't my intention to be rude. I bit my lip hoping that he didn't take it the wrong way.

"Snippy. But I see that you just proved me wrong," he said. "Don't start thinking that I'm always going to let you get away with that attitude," he smirked maliciously.

'  The audacity!'
"You should be grateful that I even allowed you to sit here," I snapped.

He chuckled."Angel, it may be your first day but it's not mine. I've been sitting here since ninth grade and before you ask, yes I put my name under the chair and the table."

' Burn! Total humiliation alert!'

I brought myself to the conclusion that I had the option of furiously moving my things to the next desk but I didn't. I only considered it.

And I'm glad I took long to consider it.

"But you are more then welcome to stay here if you want. I don't mind company." Thank you hazel eyes.