Between the Land and the Sea - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,38
said through gritted teeth. I grabbed Heather’s arm tightly and steered her around the corner.
“If you ever… talk... about Abby that way again...” my voice shook with anger. I took a deep breath, “I will pull every hair out of your head.” Heather stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I let go of her arm and she scurried away. I wheeled around and ran smack into Ethan.
He looked down into my blazing eyes with amusement.
“Wow,” he said, “Remind me to never make you angry.” I went back to my locker and got my things. I slammed the door shut and Ethan was leaning there, staring at me. His dark blue eyes drilled into mine.
“What did she say about Abby?” he asked seriously.
“Why don’t you ask her?” I said, my voice dripping with acid.
Ethan walked alongside me to art class, casting sideways glances my way. I was practicing the deep calming breaths that Abby had taught me in yoga class. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry, and my sudden violent thoughts frightened me. I wondered if my mother had a temper, because my father rarely even raised his voice. I felt like something dangerous was welling up within me, something wild and out of control.
When I got to art class I scanned the room for a seat as far away from Heather as I could find. I took the last empty spot at a table with three boys, who all stared at me, dumbstruck. This forced Ethan to sit with Heather and Jamie, who cast triumphant glances at me, smiling smugly.
We were tasked with drawing a mythical creature of our choice, which struck me as highly ironic. I thought about the first time I saw Lorelei rise from the water and started drawing feverishly. Her image came to me with with crystal clarity, and I remembered the surge of shock that brought me to my knees. I lost myself in the memory, drowning out all the chatter in the room. The sounds of the class became like the roar of the surf to me, and when the teacher called for us to stop I looked up, disoriented and dazed.
I could hear the boys snickering as they looked over at my drawing and was suddenly mortified. I had captured Lorelei perfectly, and the expression she wore took me right back to that day. The only problem was that she was bare breasted, and she happened to look almost exactly like me. I quickly slammed the drawing pad shut, holding it to my chest. Mr. Briggs came around to collect the art, which he routinely posted on the classroom walls for a group critique. I refused to hand it over.
“Now Marina,” he said, “we are all our own worst critics.” He reached out his hand for the pad. I looked around and saw everyone watching, surprised because they knew how well I could draw. The boys at the table started laughing, and Mr. Briggs looked alarmed. I slowly reached my hand out and passed it over with a pleading look. He flipped it open and studied it briefly.
His face was impassive, unreadable. He closed the pad and tucked it under his arm.
“Please see me after class,” he said, and continued down the row of desks. The bell rang and the room was noisy with the bustle of students filing out. I sat at my desk, pretending to arrange the things in my bag, willing the class to clear out quickly. Ethan went out last, standing in the doorway as if to wait for me.
“Please excuse us,” Mr. Briggs said to him sternly, and he reluctantly turned and left.
Mr. Briggs walked over to me solemnly, “Marina, you are one of the most talented students I’ve ever had the privilege to teach. Your sensibility is remarkable, and your level of sophistication is clear.” He handed me the sketchpad, “This is a beautiful artwork, and in any other venue it would be appropriate.” He smiled reassuringly at my worried face, “Let’s just keep it rated ‘G’ from now on.” He walked towards the door and turned back, “You know, you really ought to consider taking some life drawing classes at the junior college... I can give you a recommendation if you’re interested.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” I gathered my things and left the room to find Ethan waiting outside.
“Marina,” he called, rushing to catch up to me as I hurried away.