Page 53 of Breaking Rules
Chapter Fifteen
MONTANA
Isat in art class, my last class of the day, working on a drawing. The teacher had given us an assignment to pick one historic piece in Charleston, draw out a rough sketch, then submit it at the end of class. I’d decided to sketch out the Battery along the Cooper River since Elvira and I had been there.
“Montana,” Ms. Ingram said as she loomed over me.
I lifted my pencil and looked up at the young woman, who I guessed to be in her thirties.
“That’s a great sketch. Your angles are perfect. And who’s the boy leaning against the railing?”
To add a little something to my drawing, I’d also sketched in the boy who made my stomach flutter, made me a pile of mush, and made me want to punch and kiss him at the same time, especially after last night when I’d been straddling him on my couch.
“His eyes are amazing,” Ms. Ingram said.
I smiled at the sea-green eyes I’d colored in amid the muted colors of the rest of the picture.
“Is he a boyfriend?” she asked.
Train was far from a boyfriend, although we’d broken the ice a little bit more after I spilled my guts to him about how I’d almost tagged the door and why I tagged in general.
I never blush, but my cheeks heated. “A friend,” I said. “It’s not quite done yet.”
“See me after class.” Then she moved on to the next student behind me.
I couldn’t tell from her tone if I was in trouble or not. I hadn’t done anything. And I was trying to take Train’s advice and not worry since I wasn’t guilty, but the culprit probably had my paint can, although the can couldn’t be tied to me.
The bell signified the end of class.
After I gathered my things, I ambled up to Ms. Ingram’s desk and handed her my drawing as other students did the same. Once the class emptied out, she sat back in her chair.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
She arched her thin eyebrows. “Did you do something to be in trouble?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Every assignment you’ve turned in has been impeccable, and I wanted to chat with you about college. Are your sights set on an art school?”
“I would like to find a good art program, but my grades aren’t great.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t apply. Sure, colleges are tough on their admission requirements, but if you’re interested in attending, then you should fill out the applications. And I would do that now.”
I seriously hadn’t thought about college since Mom had asked. College had been one of our many topics during our road trip from New York to South Carolina.
“Do you think I could get in?” I asked.
Her face brightened. “There’s a possibility that if you brought up your grades, you could get a small scholarship.”
I opened my mouth. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” My stomach tumbled at the mere notion that I could go to college and study art. I mean, I knew colleges had art programs, but I’d never considered that I could get into one with my expulsion record and grades.Oh no. Expulsion records.My last principal had counseled me that my expulsions would hurt my chances of getting into any college program.
“Are you okay?” Ms. Ingram asked.
I shifted on my feet. “I’m good.” I didn’t need to rehash my past. I had to study hard and ensure that my school record while attending Palmetto High was near perfect. “Thank you. I got to run. I’m meeting with my tutor.”
She smiled from ear to ear. “Good to know you have a tutor.”
I was deep in thought on my way out, when she called my name. “Oh, one more thing I meant to ask. Do you know anything about someone painting the boys’ locker room door?”
