Fan Fiction ❯ Angel's Art ❯ Chapter 5

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

*Angel's Art* by Katrina Kadabra
/katrinasforest.com/

By four o' clock, Angel was anxiously looking forward to Ms. Portrait's
class.

"Good afternoon, students!" the energetic woman called out as she walked
in, arms full of pads of paper.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Portrait," they answered in unison as she sat her
papers down on the desk.

"I've got a special assignment this time. Today, I want you all to
partner up with the person next to you..." The students all glanced to
their sides, mostly exchanging excited glanced with their friends.
"...and draw a picture from your partner's description."

"A picture of what?" one of the students questioned, trying hard to
raise his voice over the sound of squeaking desks being prematurely
pushed together.

"Let's see..." said Ms. Portrait thoughtfully. "How about of something
special to you? Say... your bedroom?"

As soon as she said that, the rest of the students all began shoving
desks together. Angel looked over to either side of her. The row she was
sitting in was empty. Politely, Angel raised her hand.

"Ms. Portrait, I don't have anyone sitting next to me." The voice should
have been hers, but Angel's lips had not moved. Confusion prodded her
mind. Was this some other power she had that she didn't even know about?

"Let's see, Leslie... I don't believe Angel has a partner yet." As Angel
glanced up, she saw Ms. Portrait standing in the front of the room with
a small girl with long black hair next to her, pointing towards Angel's
desk. It seemed her question was answered for her. Nervously Angel
smiled and waved a bit so the girl could see her. Leslie picked up her
small bookbag and walked to down the row, pulling a chair up to Angel's
desk. She was about the same size as Angel, which was slightly smaller
than the average girl in the class, and she carried herself with a
slight bit of nervousness, as if she didn't want to disturb anyone with
her presence.

"My daddy told me about you," she said quietly. "He said you're a robot.
And you can do really hard problems all in your head."

"Sort of," Angel said. "I can do hard problems, but..."

"You're so lucky," Leslie sighed. Angel looked very confused.

"Lucky?" she questioned.

"You've got such a special talent, everyone wants to talk to you. I
can't really do anything except drawing, and lots of people can do that.
I'm not really interesting at all."

"It's not a talent," Angel argued. "A talent is an innate ability. I
wasn't born being able to do that stuff. I can only do it because of my
surgery." Leslie looked a bit perplexed and Angel blushed; why her
father was worried about her writing good essays was beyond her, she
certainly confused her classmates enough.

"Well, why don't we get started?" Leslie suggested, changing the subject
as she took out the paper that Ms. Portrait had generously provided her.
"You're supposed to give a description of your room and I'm supposed to
draw it right?"

"That's what she said," Angel said. She was about to correct that Mrs.
Portrait's exact words were slightly different, but then again, decided
Leslie's interpretation was close enough. It was actually the first time
in a while she didn't correct someone on their exactness of phasing.
Perhaps there was hope for her yet.

Angel relinquished the details of her room as Leslie's hand moved
proficiently across her paper. The large computer, tucked in its corner,
the shelves lined with miscellaneously-shaped objects from spheres to
prisms to mishmash shapes that she was fairly certain modern mathematics
would only define as "no distinct form." And then, the small boxes of
old toys and dolls she used to play with tucked shyly away in the
shadows. Leslie took note of Angel's every word, seemingly with great
interest, mostly keeping her eyes down in front of her but occasionally
glancing up to acknowledge she was still listening.

"How's this?" she finally asked when Angel had given all the details she
could possibly think of, which was quite a bit. Angel's eyes widened in
surprise as her partner held up the drawing.

"It's... perfect," she breathed. "Wow, Leslie, you're amazing! It looks
just like it, it really does!" Leslie's face turned a bit pink.

"It's just a sketch," she said. "You can keep it if you want."

"Could I?" Angel asked. She had never had any peers offer her a gift
before, and she was very happy to accept it. As Leslie handed the
drawing over, Angel delicately ran her fingers over the pencil lines
embedded into the grains of the paper.

"Hey, now it's your turn," Leslie reminded her. "I have to tell you what
my room looks like. Here, use my pencil"

"Oh, right," said Angel. She had nearly forgotten. Anxiously, she took
the writing implement and began to listen to Leslie speak. Her
picture-perfect memory came in handy for memorizing details, but for
putting them out onto the paper... well, it was clear Leslie had the
advantage there. Still, all in all, Angel's sketch didn't come out so
bad if she said so herself.

"Okay, class, time's up!" Ms. Portrait announced. "Sharing time."

Angel once again held her drawing somewhat defensively to her chest.
Sharing with Leslie was one thing, but the class was another. Even if
one part of her said the jagged lines and imprecise marks in her picture
were perfectly valid, another part of her still thought it very awkward.
Not to mention the students like Leslie who were just plain better
artists than her by anyone's standards. But, she recalled her teacher's
repetitive words, all of them were working artists, and decided that it
nothing to be too embarrassed over. After all, mistakes made her human,
so Ms. Portrait said... and she didn't mind clinging to that.

It once again took the bulk of the time for each student to share their
work, but Ms. Portrait seemed to feel it was time well spent
nonetheless. As the last student finished, she looked up at the clock
and sighed,

"Well, it seems I've left you with only five minutes left, so I suppose
I'll have to let you go early today." Mild cheering until she help up
her hand. "Hang on a second," she added on. "You've still got an
assignment for tonight." Now the class groaned, at least most of them.
Angel lifted her head curiously. Another drawing assignment? Or perhaps
something else?

"Tonight I want you to write the rough draft for a theme," she
announced. More groans. "Now, don't make that noise at me. It only has
to be a page, and it can be on anything you want. But whatever you
write, try to make it interesting. Write what you think other people
will want to read."

"How do we know that?" someone questioned.

"Well," said Ms. Portrait thoughtfully. "I don't want to tell you what
to write. But sometimes if you're making an argument for something, it
can make an interesting read for someone else."

An argument for something... Angel thought to herself. That sounded
suspiciously like the essays her father said she would have to do for
college eventually. But what did she have to argue. All things
considered, she was pretty neutral on just about every subject imaginable.

"Alright, see you tomorrow!" Ms. Portrait called as twenty anxious
students began busily packing their bags and making their way out of the
room. Angel shook her head in surprise. Twice today she'd let her mind
drift off again. She hoped she didn't let this become too much of a
habit, otherwise it was going to be a real problem when she eventually
got to harder classes.

"Dear, I've got great news!" she heard her father saying. "That was T
University on the phone. They said they want Angel in enroll there as
soon as possible, other classes and anything else aside."

Fear struck Angel's heart. No other classes... that meant she would be
pulled from Ms. Portrait's class. Not now... not when she had finally
found something she enjoyed and someone to share it with. Silently, she
begged her mother to intercede for her, explain about the picture she
did. But somehow she had a feelings it wasn't going to come through. Her
mother was a bit more sensitive, but just about as caught up in the
obsession of having a famous daughter as her father was. "It sounds
good, but don't you think we should wait and look at our other options?"
her mother suggested. Angel sighed. It was not the defense she'd been
looking for, in any sense of the word.

"This is one of the best places I've seen," her father argued. "And we
don't want them to pull back on this offer." Angel didn't want to listen
to anymore. Covering her ears, she ran the rest of the way up the
stairs, into her room and shut the door. Frustrated, she faced her
computer. Her vision blurry again from crying, she figured she might as
well start her last homework assignment in the class she loved the old
fashioned way. Gingerly, Angel picked a slice of paper from the
printer's mouth and sat down on the bed with the pencil she'd gotten
from Leslie. Ms. Portrait said their theme could be anything they
wanted. If that was the case, she had the perfect idea.

"Why I want to stay in school," formed the words at the top of the page.


/Author's Notes: One more chapter to go after this one. Thanks for
reading so far. ^_^ I know I've been really slow with the updates, but
I'm glad to receive feedback. I hope everyone will enjoy the ending -
expect it next week. Or if you're impatient, you can read the ending on
my website. ^_^/