The Art of Life by Sarah Carter Read Free Book Online Page A

whisper.
                    As
I make my way back, I have to smile.   They are beautiful red roses and they smell fantastic.   Trying to not smirk too bad ,
I sit back down.   There is a card and I
take it out.   I fiddle with it for a
while.   When I look up everyone is
staring at me.   Awkward.   I finally turn away from everyone and
open the card.   Before I can read it, it
is snatched from my hand.
                    “Sonya!”
I yell, “Give that back!”
                    But
it’s too late, she already has it open.   “Isabelle,” she starts loudly.   “I
had a great time last night and can’t wait to see you on Saturday.   I hope this helps with the…..guillotine.   Guillotine…..what in the hell is a
guillotine?”
                    “Something
you really need to check out,” someone yells.
                    With
a disgusted look, she gawks at me.   I
grab the card back and say, “I am going to keep that, thank you very
much.”   Sonya just continues to stare at
me.   “What?” I snap.   “Have you never gotten flowers at school
before?”
                    Daniella and Jessica start to laugh.   Daniella is the one
to say, “No, she hasn’t.”   Sonya turns
around and gives her a look of death.   The other two girls look back down at their projects.
                    “I
am going to figure this out,” Sonya seethes.
                    “What
is there to figure out?” I practically yell.   “Do you want these?   Here, have
them, if that will shut you up.”   I shove
the flowers at her.
                    Turning
away, she replies, “I don’t even like roses.”
                    “Sure!   That’s it!” A guy in front of me shouts.   I burst out laughing with everyone else.
                    To
my relief, Sonya ignores me after class.   My face turns red though as every person that I pass turns to look at me
and then the flowers.   Talk about having
all eyes upon you.   It’s like I have a
big red beacon on my head.   I decide to
go home first and drop everything off.  
                    The
house is empty.   Thank god for small
favors.   I set the flowers on my bed and
stand there for a minute.   I don’t even
think we own a vase.   We do have that
glass pitcher though.   I go downstairs
and grab it, filling it with water.   With
an artistic flare, I arrange the flowers.   I have never had flowers given to me before.   This is great.
                    My
mind is giddy for the rest of the night.   I know he didn’t send them to me for romantic reasons, but it feels
great none the less.   As I lay there
staring at the ceiling, I get an idea.    Rolling over onto my stomach, I grab my
sketch pad.   A scene comes to mind and I
start to draw.
                    At
11:45 the next day, I am sitting by my window, staring at the street.   I have the helmet ready on my bed and my
backpack on my back.   My mom is still
sleeping from her prior drunken stupor, but I don’t want to risk her seeing me.   Suddenly, I hear the rev of the bike’s
engine.   I spring across my room, grab
the helmet and fly downstairs.  
                    Jeremy
is barely stopped before I run up next to him.   “Hey.”
                    He
takes his helmet off and laughs.   “Eager
are we?”
                    “No,
I want to go before my mom wakes up,” I state, ushering with my hands.
                    “Okay,
okay,” he replies, “get on.”
                    I
throw on the helmet and climb on back.   “Where are we going?” I yell.
                    “You’ll
see.”
                    As
we drive I can’t even register where we are going.   When we finally pull up, I pop