dedicated to santablue . You're amazing❤
idk why but I picture Julie as a little bit taller and white version of Zendaya :) share your thoughts too?
I wrote this without ice-cream so proceed with more caution than the usual amount because idek know what's going on with my life lately. Lucky I can live vicariously through the characters in my head.
I've rambled enough, proceed and do click that star to make me smile that silly, wide grin.
❤
I MET PROFESSOR SYKES ON the phone today which was unusual. I dropped my cross bag on the wooden table that now held the half completed works of the students that most likely just finished with him. I reached out to hold a wood carving of a knife with intricate details and marveled at the beauty of it.
If the blind man that was currently sitting in his usual position on the floor noticed my presence, he didn't acknowledge it as he quietly listened to the person on the line. He was dressed in a red plaid shirt and dark brown jeans, which gave him the appearance that he was younger than his age. I once told him that he could pass off as one of the final year students here and he had snorted in reply. I continued to feel the wooden knife, eyes on the man on the floor. He had his eyes covered by the shades and hair packed in a short man-bun, he refused to cut that hair and whenever he released it, it took ever fiber of my being not to try to touch it.
He finally spoke to whoever it was, voice solemn. "And you say Lance has gone totally off the radar? Is that what Malory said?"
I settled down right in front of him, seeing the frown lines etched into his face. He wasn't the type to frown or be moody, I didn't like that at all.
"I don't know what else to say at this point," he admitted to the person with an empathetic sigh. "No, don't say that, it'll be fine. Yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."
He dropped the phone and I unconsciously reached out to touch his hands, my fingers rubbing the ridges on the back of his fingers soothingly.
"Julie," he sighed, closing his other hand over my hands to stop the motion. The way he always said my name never failed to make me smile and I did just now. "You can't do that, you know that."
"I don't know anything." His hands were still closed down on mine. "Why are you all moody anyways?"
"I'm not moody, Julie." I studied his thin, pink lips move, his voice as charming as ever. "You're just late, why are you even always late for this class? It's like you always choose to annoy me with it."
"That's a lie, I was early on Monday. I met those dudes you were talking to here. Remember you told me to stop disturbing them?" I usually met other students like me here and quite often when I was in the mood to, I socialized with them.
"Yes, I remember," he stated, dryly. "So why are you late again today, what happened this time?"
"You'd never believe it --"
"Trust me, I never believe it."
I rolled my eyes at his tone, our hands were still clasped together, neither of us making any attempts to leave that position. "But I was actually submitting some last minute notes online at the library, it's hectic there."
"You used that excuse last Thursday already, Julie." He finally released our hands, but not before giving my hand a light squeeze. "You're going to have to be more creative with your lies."
"But I'm serious this time." I knew he wasn't mad at me for real, he hardly ever got mad as long as I paid attention, did my work properly and stayed away from Bertie, like I needed to be told that one twice.
The assistant and I were still on scowling terms.
"Funny you also said that last week." He scratched his chin with a slight frown. "Go to that table and bring out the folder labelled "Smith" for me, " he instructed, pointing at his table at the corner of the studio.
I got off the floor and did as he said immediately, I found the file and returned to my seated position in front of him.
"Here." I handed it to him.
He didn't reach to collect it. "Never mind giving me, I can't see any of it but it's yours, it's the timetable on how your remedial tests and exams will go. Professor Smith is going to be testing you."
Suddenly the brown file weighed a ton. Professor Smith was the overall head of the arts departments, she was the one supposed to be present at my hearing instead of JT. I was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. "Not you? I thought you were going to test me, Jake."
"No need to sound all betrayed." He actually barked out a laughter at that before continuing. "I'm teaching you, I can't test you, Julie. We need a fair, external body."
"Professor Smith?" I exclaimed.
"Was very interested in your case," he finished with a bit of flourish that was quite unneeded considering my current mood. "Now you're going to be fine if you listen to me and stop coming late to my class."
I sighed softly, opening the brown file and scanning through the proposed dates briefly. "This says I'll take the finals by December and then I'll be free to stop all remedials."
His face remained impassive. "You're the one that can read it."
I frowned once again before it hit me. "We'll stop our classes?"
"There'd be no sense continuing when you're done with the exams so I suppose the answer to that would be yes."
The thought oddly made me unhappy, coming here and hearing him explain and ramble on about dead artists, artistic significance and the likes had grown on me. I loved listening and talking to him, it was weird but I did. I looked forward to our classes, it had become our sort of routine.
I didn't want that to end anytime soon.
"So we won't see each other again?"
"Julie, we're in the same campus, of course we'll still see each other, although I can't use the word 'see' all too figuratively but you get my point."
"I'll miss you, Jake."
He laughed again, hands on his legs. "Julie, this is October, you're not leaving till December. Besides, I thought you always complained that you hated this class."
"It's the good kind of hate."
"Because that makes sense."
"It does," I argued, now opening my textbook slowly. "It's the kind of hate you feel for cliché romcoms, yunno?"
"I can't exactly watch them."
I almost face palmed. "Virtually everything feels like a jibe at you, honestly. How do you cope with this life, you're so cool and in your element with it."
He sighed, we were supposed to have started off by now but he had long learnt that all these questions were part of my learning mechanism. "Julie, the first thing is that life is never fair or easy. Once we understand that fact, it all gets better. I could tell you that part of the hype about my works comes from my blindness."
Naturally, if you heard a blind man sculpted something you'd be fascinated by it. It was what made him unique, special, it made him stand out.
He continued talking. "Life gives us an empty sheet, fate writes what it wants in it and we rewrite our stories ourselves. If you're going to limit yourself by one disability, then that's your sad story."
The way he spoke made me feel like he had been some kind of sage in his past life or something. "You're strangely deeper than usual today," I commented, more to lighten the mood than for any other reason.
"I'm not deep," he scoffed lightly. "I just read a lot, most people you guys call deep just recite quotes out of books but that's another story for another day. I trust you've learnt that threading technique I explained last class?"
"Yeah," I said, brushing my hair behind my ears and biting my lip lightly, I wanted to ask him a question. "Jake, can I ask one more question?"
"You just did, but I'll allow it. What?"
I knelt down in front of him, reaching to remove the shades. He didn't stop me but just sat still as I removed them and exposed his beautiful, warm chocolate irises. My fingers lingered on his forehead, lightly smoothening the crease there. "Why won't you give love another chance? Any lady would be lucky to have you."
I felt his hand reach for mine to touch them before he looked up and for a moment, it felt like he could see me and that feeling alone was like a butterfly parade in my stomach.
I realized something with a painful jolt.
It wasn't a nice thought but I had somehow developed a stupid crush on my art teacher.
Oh fuck.
***
short chapter, I know, I know. Sorry, will work on it.
Question, do you prefer short or long chapters, I need to know.😊❤