Students file out of the classroom after the bell rings. Natalie mumbles something about talking to Mr LeBlanc about getting a different partner and runs off. 

I quietly grab my few belongings into my bag, including my music-only device which the school provides. And that's something I am grateful for. As I hang my bag on my person, I feel the glare — again.

Calculating the distance with the aid of the sound of the breath I can hear — due to years spent in the WACO — I realise he is just behind me.

Sighing, I turn to face the source of the glare. He is facing me as Francesco stands beside him.

I force a smile and nod politely deciding it best to say nothing for now. I turn to leave when he speaks.

"Ah... I guess I'm stuck with the trash this year," He says sounding cold and condescending.

He looks at me to judge my reaction. I swallow and do what I have done for years when I feel the most overwhelmed. To show no feeling.

His violet eyes turn even darker and he stomps out. Francesco looks at me quietly for a second, a blank look in his eyes before he swaggers out, hands in his pocket.

I wait for a few minutes, and finally decide to visit Mr LeBlanc's office. I cannot allow myself to be close to them.

• • • • • • • •

After a moment of pleading and beseeching, I finally leave Mr LeBlanc's office, dejected. He refused to change it.

"You know our policy, we can not change who your partner is for the entire year. Whoever was picked for you, will have to remain your partner in every other subject also."

"But-"

"No buts, Missie."

Thoughts of depression flood my brain and I begin to wander around not bothering which direction I am heading to.

What if I am not able to win the court case due to this association? How will my parents feel? What if all the other secrets get out to the public?

I walk around the art park aimlessly, (yes, the art class has one for outdoor paintings) when I hear a holler.

I look up awkwardly and find all the students looking away from their canvases and staring at me. I sigh inwardly, I guess today is a day of stares.

"I am sorry, I was not watching where I was going," I say quietly to the Art Teacher, Mr Francis.

He is not my teacher, but I have heard enough about him. He was really hard to please and had only one favourite student — Prince Francesco.

"Well, if you are here, come and explain this piece of art to a student who knows no more than you apparently." And he glares at the boy standing before him with his head bowed.

I walk slowly to him and study the piece of art. It was a bit quizzical at first. But then, I begin to notice the patterns.

"I think, Sir, that the Artist seems to have been going through many lows."

I study it again, "With the use of dark hues, he portrays the body drowning, but his soul is painted in lighter hues and he is shown floating atop the surface."

I gulp and continue not minding if I am making a fool of myself before Mr Francis and the rest of the students.

"I think he sees a future hope ahead of him. Though he is drowning now, he believes even the worst of situations can be salvaged."

I feel startled when I hear the sound of clapping.

I am as shocked as the others when I realise it is Mr Francis clapping.

"That is what I am talking about." He says with a pleasant look on his face.

"Why are you not in Art Class?" He asks me, to the further surprise of everyone. It is well known that not just anyone can enter his class.

"Oh, I do not think I have any special talent." I blush slightly.

"I think you should consider it." A different voice says from behind.

I turn to see Francesco, in his signature pose — hands in pocket. "Francis knows talent when he sees one. Just give it a try. We are going to be painting the whole Art Block this week, show us what you've got."

Seems like I do not have a choice, Mr Prince.

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Hello, fam. GOD bless you for sticking with us this far.

Thank you so much for your support. Much love ❤