Page 53 of Undone

“Infinity.” I simply said, nodding as I stared at his work. What I didn’t say aloud was he was in, what felt like a bad infinity of endless days where he didn’t see another road ahead.

“Derrick? What do you see?”

“Yours or his?”

“Both.”

“Yours is… messy while his is more deliberate. Hmmm…. love and pain.”

Students started clapping. “Good. For the rest of this period you will each work on your own masterpiece using canvas and your choice of paints. When you are done everyone is to walk around the room with a piece of paper and sum up each of the paintings with one word.”

I smiled as they all eagerly got set up. My eyes found the clock hanging above the door. For the past twenty minutes I was so engrossed in the class, I forgot about my own splashes of color bleeding from the center of my heart.

I walked over to Derrick as he started painting. “You were right. Love is messy. I’m going to name my painting ‘Chaos’.”

“Cool.”

I walked between the easels as they worked, encouraging them as I passed. Dean was into it, so much so that he didn’t even notice me pausing behind him. I knew he ended up in detention almost every other day when his bad attitude got the best of him. An idea sparked and caught fire. When class ended, I went to the front office and knocked on the principal’s door.

“Lucille! Come in! I’ve been meaning to drop by and check-in. How do you like Springdale High?”

“I like it very much. It’s very different from Chicago.”

“I was afraid you’d be bored here.”

“No. The smaller class sizes enable me to really explore art with the kids. Actually, I just had a really intense class with my juniors. I wanted to talk to you about Dean Miller.”

“Jesus, what did the kid do now?” He sighed, tapping his fat fingers on a messy pile of papers.

“He created a masterpiece.”

“No shit,” he snorted in disbelief.

“I’d like you to send him to me instead of detention. I think he needs an outlet—a way to redirect his emotions. I think it could really help him.”

Principal Jenkins sat back in his chair; it squeaked painfully. “Like some sort of art therapy and shit?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

He shrugged. “If you’re willing to take all the detention kids off my hands… go for it. But I ain’t increasing your pay.”

“How about dipping into the school’s budget for a few more art supplies instead?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great.”

I passed Dev in the hallway on my way back to the classroom. “Luce! What did you do? The kids in my history class can’t stop talking about art today.”

“It was great, Dev! It felt really great. I’ll tell you about it after school.”

“How about over dinner at Sassy’s tonight?”

My face instantly fell. “No. I can’t go there.”

“Like ever? You do realize Rog owns the place…”

“I’m sorry. I see him everywhere. It’s so raw still. Please.”

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