“You can call me Sandra.” Sandra told me. “Obviously, you can call me James.” I said. “What about Jay?” She asked. “Don’t call me that! My big brother calls me that…” I meandered off the topic. She snatched my notebook while I was thinking. “Hey!” I said trying to take it back. “This is great! You’re an awesome artist, James!” She exclaimed. I grabbed the book. “Hey, wanna come over my house after school? I can teach you how to paint scenery.” She said. “I’d like that.” I said, not thinking of the consequences of my action.
After the final bell rang, I climbed on her bus and sat next to her. She grabbed my hand, and squeezed it. We looked through my notebook at the pictures I had drawn when I was bored. “James, is your dad okay with this?” She asked. My dad would kill me, but I didn’t care. This took my mind off of thinking about him, his girlfriend, or his dumb dog. She looked out the window. “Hey, do you live near by?” She asked me. “I live near the school.” I responded. The bus stopped. We were here.