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The First Time we Met: Chapter Two

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Chapter Two: The Painting from the Heart




Natasha


I remember going home that day and running to my bed and throwing myself onto my pillows, and trying so hard not to smile. I was so madly in love with Danny and he had no idea. I loved him, and there was no way I was letting him get out of my reach. His soft green eyes just pieced through my heart when he looked at me the other day, it gave me a feeling of wanting to do nothing but smile my heart out.

I walked quickly in school the next day, trying not to be trampled by the crowd of teenagers trying to get to class before they were pronounced late. I wanted to see him. I just had to look at him. See what he was wearing, to see if he was wearing that adorable Abercrombie cologne, I smelt on him yesterday. I took my seat in art class and look at the doorway waiting for him to just walk in and take a seat next to me. I would nonchalantly smile at him and melt into an eternal pile of goo inside from how beautiful he looked. I stared and stared at the doorway, but he did not come in. I kept thinking what if he wasn’t in this class. I needed to see him. The teacher began to talk about the history of Picasso and my heart sank. I thought I could just die if he was not in my classes. I know I was being stupid, about this but I loved him, and not having him near me felt like I was missing something close to me. I had given up all hope that he was going to walk right in and take a seat next to me. I just had to except that he may not be in all my classes. I could take that. Couldn’t I?

The teacher stopped lecturing about Picasso, and told us to take our pallets, paints, and brushes and paint a true feeling in our hearts. I knew exactly what my heart was feeling but, drawing a portrait of Danny would make me look desperate and freaky. I just sat there with the paint on my pallet making a dry top layer while I just stared aimlessly at my snow while canvas. I had nothing if I didn’t have Danny. I know what I was thinking sounded so stupid; if someone heard my thoughts they would think I was acting way to fast and shouldn’t feel this way after only two days. I could care less what others think of me and my dreams of Danny. I wanted him, and there was nothing to stop me. That second, my heart skipped a beat and my lips curled into a wide smile, Danny walked in.



Danny


Of all days my mom’s ten year old black soccer mom minivan decided to break down. I was so excited to go to school for the first time, ever. I needed to see her. Natasha. She was perfect. It took two hours for my dad to turn around, come, pick me up, and take me to school. I was so late for school. I rushed into the school, flung my bag into my already messy locker, and rushed to Art. The whole class stopped and stared at the door as I walked in. She was smiling. Was that good? Was she smiling because, I had just walked in, or had someone just said something funny? I tried not to make eye contact, to avoid something embarrassing. I just hurried to my seat, that just happened to be conveniently next to hers.

Things were quiet for a while. No one bothered to tell me what it was we were doing in art today. Therefore, I sat aimlessly staring at the white paper the teacher had stuck in front of my face. This is what Natasha seemed to be doing. I got up the courage and said some more simple words to her.

“Do you have any idea what we are supposed to be doing?”
She looked at me with a blank expression could she hear me, or did I have something embarrassing stuck in my teeth, that she was trying very hard to laugh at. Finally, I saw her mouth begin to form words.

“Umm, we are supposed to be painting a picture that expresses our feelings.” She said with a little smile at the end.
Everything seemed to be going well so I kept going.

“What are you going to paint?”

“I know what I want to paint but, I’m afraid. I don’t want people to think something weird of me, you know.” Natasha said.

“Ya, I do get it. “I said with a smile while looking into her deep hazel eyes.
I did get her. I wanted to paint a picture of mixed emotions. Should I love her as much as I am, right away? I love her. Those words seemed to easy to say in my thoughts, but putting them in action. Well that’s a different story.



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