• Chapter 3.

    The next day I found myself going through extra pains with my look. I put my hair up in a barrette, so it roughly resembled a French twist, and then skimmed some mascara onto my eyelashes, but then I got some into my eye, which took 10 min. for my eyes to blink it out. After that, I slipped into a white, ruffled short skirt, blue tank top, and then shoved my feet into my lime green converses. After escaping the house, without being lectured once by my mom about my looks, I got into my car and went to school. When I got there, my best friends Angie, Lydia, and Destiny ran up to me.
    “Hey M did you see… WOW! Angie, Destiny, look at what Emi is wearing! Must be another crush!” giggled Lydia. I blushed and hurriedly asked
    “What did I see?”
    “That new guy, um… I think his name is Brendan or Brian or something like that. Anyway, he is H-O-T HOT!!!” exclaimed Lydia. I laughed uneasily with Angie and Destiny at Lydia’s airhead character. Then Destiny stated to me,
    “Hey, wait, didn’t I see you walk with the new kid to physics? I’m pretty sure I did.”
    “Yeah… come to think of it, I did to.” Added Angie.
    “Oh…well, first off, his name is Brandin, and second off, yes you did see me, I had to show him around school.” I shrugged.
    “Lucky! Hey… wait a second, skirt, no dirty T-shirt, fancy hairdo, YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON BRANDIN!” yelled Lydia.
    “Sssshhhh! Dang Lyly, do you have to yell it out?” I asked flustering.
    “Ha! So you admit it!” accused Lydia. To this, I’m sorry to say, but all I could do was blush and murmur something about me being late for class, leaving my friends to discuss about this latest piece of gossip, which was what I expected them to do. As long as they don’t spread the news, I’m good.

    After I had put my nap-sack inside my locker, I headed quickly to home base, sat myself down, and waited for Brandin to enter the room. We he walked through the door; he smiled at me and took his place next to me.
    “Hey,” he whispered as Mr. Brown entered the room.
    “Hi,” I answered.
    “You look nice,” he observed.
    “You sound surprised,” I teased, and we quietly laughed until Mr. Brown got mad at told us to be quiet while he was taking attendance.
    About 2 months after first meeting Brandin, the third trimester had began. For my new exploratory, I had picked art. Call me a hippie/art geek, but I loved art. None of my friends liked it or had the talent for it so I was probably going to be alone in a class of 25. That’s the part that sucked. So, I was surprised to find Brandin sitting in art at a worktable. He looked around, saw me and waved. After I had taken a sit by him, Ms. Lambo came and told us that today we were to draw a picture of a person in the class, tell what techniques you used, and compare and contrast with your partner. She also added that the assignment was due tomorrow and that if you don’t think you won’t have enough time, you should plan with your partner to work at someone’s house. Naturally, Brandin and I were partners due to the fact of having no other friends in the class. We got together, and discussed where we should finish the project. I suggested my house, he went along.

    Chapter 4..
    “Okay, this is my house. The kitchen is to the left if you want anything from the refrigerator, and the bathroom is down the hall, first door on your right,” I explained as I opened the door to my mother and mine’s downtown Chicago town house.
    “Kay, thanks,” he returned.
    “So, do you want me to do a half mark sketch of you, or full pose?” I asked, clipping a sheet of paper to my clip-board.
    “I don’t care,” he shrugged.
    “Hmmm… I think I’ll start out with half mark sketch, turn towards me,” I ordered, he turned, and I drew. After about 30 minutes, I was too caught up on examining the details of his face (which concluded he was even more handsome than at first glance) to notice him cramping up. However, being nice, he didn’t mention anything and tried to stay tough.
    “Oh! I’m sorry, you probably want a break!” I exclaimed after 15 more minutes.
    “No, I’m fine,” was what he replied but he flexed his fingers and laid back, so I’m pretty sure he was trying to be all “macho” or something. “Can I see?” he asked timidly, eyeing the picture.
    “Sure, I’m almost done, but I think I really messed up on your eyes, sorry,” your gorgeous, awing eyes that is. He picked up the clipboard and looked at it.
    “Wow, you’re good at portraits, I mean, REALLY good,” he commented.
    “Oh… thanks,” I mumbled, blushing, then I tried to change the subject, “So…do you want like juice or anything?”
    “Nah, I’m good. Okay, I’ll start on you,” he said. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious. Brandin would see every fault in my face, every line and detail couldn’t escape someone who was drawing a portrait. But, what was I supposed to do? Say no? So he started and I worried. After about 50 minutes of non- stop sketching, he announced that he was done. I looked up at his face and saw the strangest expression. He looked dazed, no, he looked confused. Well, I couldn’t make out anything from that, so I just asked for my portrait and he handed it to me absent-mindly. When I saw it, I was in shock. Brandin did all the same techniques as me, only his was 10 times better! He made me actually look pretty.
    “Wow.” I whispered.
    “You like it?” he asked, looking at me.
    “Well YAH! Man, you’re really good; you actually made me look pretty!” I laughed. I was expecting him to laugh to, but instead he looked troubled.
    “What do you mean I make you actually look pretty?” he asked puzzled.
    “Oh, um… never mind,” I said, looking away. Now he probably thought that I was trying to make him feel sorry for me. He was about to say something when I heard the front door open and my mom stepped in.
    “Hey sweetie! I’m home, I…” she stopped as she saw Brandin sitting on the couch.
    “Um… who is this?” she questioned, addressing me with her eyes.
    “Hello Mrs. Laner, I’m Brandin, I’m Emi’s partner in art. We just came here to finish up a project that was due tomorrow.” He explained, sticking out his hand. My mom took it, but was still suspious, but then that subsided with her face turning to welcome for the visitor. She also gave me one of those “you better tell me what’s going on later or so help me I well nag you to death” looks.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you Brandin. Do you want to stay for dinner?”
    “Oh, no thank you. My parents are expecting me, well, I guess there not really my parents, but anyway sorry. Will, I better go now; I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. By Emi, see you tomorrow.” He called over his shoulder, as he reached for his backpack and went out the door.
    My mom gave me a questioning glance again, but said nothing as the front door shut behind Brandin. And she still said nothing as we were making dinner. I was just cutting up my plate of lasagna when she started. The whole time, I was troubled, trying to figure out what Brandin meant by his comment on “well, I guess there not really my parents,”
    “So, is um… Brandin… well… um……” she faded out.
    “You mean, is he my boyfriend mom? No, we’re just friends,” I answered.
    “Hmmm… well, he certainly is good looking, and he seems nice,” she said, ignoring my statement. I rolled my eyes for her benefit and took some bits of my dinner. The rest of dinner was full of silence on my part, and my mom telling me all about her day at work. After I had cleared my plate, I tried avoiding more awkward discussions by saying I was tried and wanted to go to bed.
    As I lay there, in my striped pajamas, I came to the conclusion that Brandin was defiantly mysterious. What was with his comment on my birth mark? Where did he come from? Was he adopted? If we were going to be friends, which was what I thought we were, I would want to figure out more of him. So, the next day, I threw on an outfit and went to school as fast as I could while maintaining the speed limit.