Painted: 1.0.4

Chapter 4

The sounds of basketballs bouncing off hoops, girls laughing, and children chatting reverberated around the courtyard and through Kassi's ears. She unzipped her lunch bag and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It glistened slightly red in the bright sunlight, and Kassi smiled; Sila would never have forgotten the ruby.

"Hey."

Kassi looked up to see Jame standing above her.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"No, go ahead."

He sat down and opened his bag. Immediately, Kassi noticed how his lunch shimmered red, just like hers. She smiled a little bit—it was just another reason why Jame was like home to her.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was shut off with you the other day. I totally trust you, I was just kind of... embarrassed... about this thing that happened."

Kassi raised her eyebrows. "And that thing is...?"

Jame sighed. "I, um... I kind of didn't do that well on this science test."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Are you really going to make me say it again?"

"Uh huh."

"Fine." He smiled at her playfully. "I was... embarrassed."

"It's okay."

They shared a smile and then each returned to their respective, reddish lunches.

A smatter of giggling from a nearby group of girls made Kassi jump. She looked over to see them all with their heads bent together, looking not so surreptitiously at her. Kassi drew her shoulders in protectively and tried to look like she hadn't noticed.

There was no explanation--nor had there ever been--for why Kassi was so often a target of other girl's gossip. She would've thought that they'd choose to badmouth a more interesting subject, but then again, perhaps it was her socially uninvolved state that set her up so perfectly for words like 'nobody' and 'art geek'.

It was somewhat true, though. Kassi often found herself inspirationless to do much but paint, her best and only friend was Jame (and it was quite possible he didn't think of her as his best friend, but only a good friend, or possibly just a friend) and she found herself unable to concentrate in school for lack of motivation. The strange dream she'd had last night was by far the most interesting thing that'd happened to her in months. Kassi sighed. She'd made a promise to herself this morning that she wouldn't get confused by thinking too much about how oddly real the dream had been.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Jame asked. Kassi jolted back into reality and turned to see him looking at her curiously.

"You've been sitting there staring blankly at your sandwich for like a minute," Jame said and smiled. "You tend to do that when you're deep in thought."

"Oh. I was just thinking about this odd dream I had last night."

"Why was it odd?"

"It just felt like... it just felt very real, I guess."

"What was it about?"

Kassi squinted and tilted her head to remember. "I remember I was in a courtyard... a big, empty courtyard. I went to knock on the door of one of these apartments, and a two boys came to talk to me. Their names were Erko and Luk."

Jame's eyes widened and he paled noticeably.

"Are you alright?" Kassi asked.

Jame blinked. "Yeah, yeah, I am." Kassi narrowed her eyes. He still looked pale.

"So what happened then?"

Kassi went on to recount the rest of the odd dream, and Jame's initial, unexplained surprise was generally forgotten.

Eventually, they were interrupted by the bell, which marked the time when they would have to separate and head to their respective classes. Jame was a grade above Kassi, so lunch was the only time during the school day Kassi would see him. So for now they separated, and Kassi returned to her secluded, one-dimensional world once more.

* * * * *

Kassi’s paintbrush moved slower than usual across the canvas as her peers chattered around her. She couldn't focus. She was stuck again.

At the front of the class, her art teacher, a batty old man they called Mr. Elector, was ranting passionately about painting the people in their artwork as if they were living, breathing humans. He claimed that believing that there was life to them gave them life. This made little sense to Kassi. She hunched over (despite the everlasting ache in her back) and stroked colors of gold and daffodil onto her canvas without any thought to his words. She respected Mr. Elector (after all, he was Jame's grandfather), but sometimes she wondered whether he'd gone a bit crazy with age.

Kassi had been completely zoned out before she realized there was a warm, unsteady breath on her neck. She jumped and jerked her paintbrush slightly.

“Very well done, Ms. Fortis,” said a cackling voice from above her. “Very well done,” he repeated.

Kassi turned slowly and saw that Mr. Elector had a strange little smile over his lips, like that of a small child who knows something their parent doesn’t.

“What is it that you're painting?” he asked. His voice cracked a little as he spoke, and his lips hardly moved. His face remained frozen in place, eyes latched on the beautiful golden square Kassi had painted onto the canvas. It was a frame for a painting, but there was nothing in it.

“Ah, well,” Mr. Elector sighed when Kassi made no reply. “Sometimes we do not know where we will lead ourselves in these endeavors. We must only follow our conscience.”

Kassi shrugged. She did not in any way agree with this statement—she thought it much better for one to understand one’s goals and expectations—but she stayed silent as always.

Mr. Elector reached out and touched her chin with his warm fingertips.

“Follow your conscience on whatever you do, Ms. Fortis. That is the greatest lesson I can show you. If you follow your conscience, then when you step back to look at your piece, you will see that all the parts you have painted clearly fit together; you will see how a foggy, winding road can lead you so clearly to the most beautiful of results.”

Kassi nodded her head again, her cheeks flushing. What on earth was Mr. Elector talking about? At last, he let go of her chin and unlocked his gaze from her eyes. She dropped her head to her paper. Batty old man, she thought.