The Art of Life by Sarah Carter Read Free Book Online

school.”
                    She
looks at me.   “Okay, thanks.”
                    “No
problem,” I whisper, as she stands up to leave.   “Sleep well.”
                    My
mom nods.   I watch her go and sigh.   My life is so messed up.
                   

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 3

 
                    I
can’t help but smile all day.   To say I
am looking forward to the weekend is an understatement.   Grabbing my books, I get ready to leave right
from art class.   It takes me a while to
get to the bus, and then the grocery store and back home again.   I slam my locker door and jump a little.   Eric is standing there, staring at me.   “Hi,” I say slowly.
                    “Hey,
your name is Isabelle right?”
                    “Yeah,”
I reply in shock.  
                    The
corner of his mouth twitches.   “I just
thought I would say happy birthday.”
                    “Thanks.”
                    “So,
that guy…” He starts.
                    Suddenly,
a voice yells, “Eric!”   I close my eyes
in defeat.   Sonya comes over and puts her
hand on his shoulder.   “What are you
doing?”
                    Getting
a perplexed look, he answers, “Talking to ummm …Isabelle.”
                    Sonya’s
eyes turn to me.   To save myself some
dignity, I mutter, “Bye,” and walk away.   Seriously, that chick is grating on my last nerve.   I just have to get through art.   We are finishing our paintings and then I am
free from my prison for a couple of days.  
                    To
avoid another encounter with my demon-possessed tormenter, I grab my painting
and art supplies, before I even sit down.   When I get to my seat, I spread everything out onto the table.   My eyes look down at my painting.   It’s alright, just a simple lake scene.   I am great at drawing, but only average at
painting.
                    Suddenly,
the tell tale shadow passes over my desk again.   “ Soooo , Eric told me it was your birthday and
you got sung to last night.”
                    “Yup,”
I reply, not even looking at her.
                    Leaning
forward on the front of the table, Sonya laughs.   “How cute, are you five?”
                    “That
was all on Jeremy.   It was his idea.”
                    She
taps her chin and draws out, “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy, oh, your pay-by-the-hour
boyfriend.”
                    “I
must be rich, because I spend a lot of hours with him,” I retort, painting a
line on the page.
                    The
bell rings and our teacher saves me by beginning the
class right away.   Sonya is forced to sit
down.   Good, at least I have a while to
finish this project.   After my teacher
stops talking, everyone starts to work on their paintings, too.   Thankfully, Sonya is a horrible artist and
has a lot to finish on hers.
                    Twenty
minutes into class, there is a knock on the door.   Everyone of course looks up.   The teacher walks over to answer it.   There is a guy standing in the hallway.   When I look carefully, I see it’s a guy
holding a bunch of flowers, roses to be exact.   He walks forward and hands them to my teacher.   My teacher looks down at the card.   “Isabelle… ummm …you
have flowers here for you.”
                    There
is instant whispering in the classroom.   Oh no, Jeremy, I am going to kill you.   I begrudgingly walk up to the front of the room.   My teacher hands them to me, a little wide
eyed.   “Thanks,” I