Matrix project V.2

The Color in His Painting

I watched him from the back of the classroom where I sat. The creations he painted made mine look like finger painting from a four year old. He was perfection in human form, the Elvis of painting. His brush danced along the paper, the red paint harmonizing with the black.

“Trisha! Your picture can’t paint itself, get to work,” Ms. Jennie said as she broke my trance.

I looked at my sad attempt at a dog playing fetch and groaned. It looked like a dust bunny with an oversized pink tongue. I added clashing wisps of color to my drawing until Ms. Jennie directed us to clean up. I was about to bring my brushes to the sink when I saw him standing there. My heart started pumping and I could feel the sweat oozing out of the pores in my forehead. I turned to Jan.

“Could you wash my brushes out for me today? I promise tomorrow I will do yours,” I negotiated as I placed my brushes on top of hers.

I left the classroom as the bell rang, and glanced back just long enough to see Jan hurriedly trying to finish washing the brushes. Cain was at her side helping her. Jan didn’t realize how lucky she was to actually be having a conversation with Cain, though I was glad I wasn’t in her place. I would have vomited from the anxiety.

The rest of the day was uneventful. In each class I got lost in my own daydreams. I dreamt that Cain would come up to me in class and say, “Wow what a great work of art.” I would look into his hazel eyes and we would live happily ever after.

The next day, Jan handed her brushes to me at the end of class. Jan has been my best friend since elementary school. If there were paparatsi in Melrose, Jan would have her picture in all the magazines. Her long blonde hair is desired by everyone, and her tall slender body makes her look like a supermodel. Her looks have what got her into the cool crowd this year. I, of course, was left out. This didn’t surprise me, I mean who has ever heard of a fizzy haired, braces filled popular girl?

After handing off her well used brushes to me, Jan tossed her goddess hair over her shoulder and joined the group of kids standing at the classroom door. I turned around and to my relief the sink was abandoned. I quickly started washing out mine and Jan’s brushes in the warm water.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” a sturdy voice came from next to me.

I froze looking down at the sink. My heart started pumping harder as I realized where the voice came from.

“What?” my voice cracked at the single word I was able to let out.

“The colors draining down the sink, it’s like a painting in of itself,” he said as I fumbled with the brushes.

My voice left me stranded in the awkward silence that lingered between us. I swear he could hear my heart beating. As soon the water running of my brushes were clean, I left Cain at the sink without saying goodbye.

Instead of taking notes in Trig that evening, I ran through the conversation that I had with Cain at the sink. I thought up charming and witty responses to Cain’s words just incase the opportunity of conversation came up again.

A week passed without the chance of another conversation with Cain. I observed him as he painted elegant swirls of red across his canvas. I admired his hands and how they delicately supported his brush. Emotions fled into his artwork. I was dreaming of what it would be like if we were dating when he turned around and looked in my direction. He smiled and waved. Embarrassed, I dropped my eyes to my lap. I suddenly became self-conscious. Did he know how long I was staring? Did he smile at me because he likes me? Oh no! Was my mouth open? I couldn’t remember.

“Wow what a great work of art,” said a deep voice behind me.

My spine shivered at the words I dreamt in my head. I struggled to find the charming comments I thought up a week before. I finally looked up at my muse, but as I was about to say thank you, I saw his chiseled face and realized that those words were not directed at my dust bunny dog. They were meant for the flower on Jan’s canvas. I snapped my head back to my painting; heat started radiating from my body as embarrassment filled me.

My chin started to quiver but neither Jan nor Cain noticed anything besides each other. I wanted to run right out of the classroom but I sat still in my seat. That is when I noticed the empty spot where my heart used to beat. The thief took it, then made me hopeful of receiving his, and finally he crushed it to use the blood for the color in his painting.