Chapter Two
Painting is my escape, allowing me to focus on the process of creation. I have the ability to manipulate the aesthetic and end product. After the car accident and bed rest from the head injury, I have been able to spend more time working on my paintings. Humming softly to myself, my brush creates new colours and my arm reaches to the canvas; I pause. The canvas at this point is completely blank, waiting for the paint to sit upon it in such a way it is yet to experience. Taking a deep breath, I reach into the innermost corners of my mind, then close my eyes as the brush makes contact with the surface. Following the initial contact, my eyes are open and I begin letting my mind and arm wander, the image on the canvas slowly coming to life. After some time, the sun begins its descent; the hours pass me by and I haven't left my canvas in hours. A soft knock draws my attention away from what I'm doing and to the door where my very tired father stands, a gentle smile on his face. "Dinner is ready Bails, do you want to come downstairs to eat or do you want me to bring your dinner up here for you?" A small flicker of hope is in his eyes, causing me to shake my head a little as I put my brush down. As I make my way towards the door, dad gasps quietly and I realise he is looking straight at my painting. "That is beautiful honey!" he throws his arms around me in a hug, "I'm so proud of you Bails, who knew my little girl could be so talented!" I hug my dad in return and roll my eyes when he isn't looking, I've gotten used to my dad reacting this way over the years when he sees my paintings.
"It's not even finished yet dad, but please don't tell mum. It's her birthday present," my voice is barely audible as insecurity sets in; creating my paintings is one thing, but giving them as gifts always makes me nervous as I worry that the person receiving the painting won't like it. Dad nods once then salutes, pretending to be very serious which causes both of us to erupt in laughter as we make our way downstairs to the dinner table. Mum has to work late tonight, leading the warriors in night training to sharpen their skills so she won't be having dinner with us. I'm used to only having dinner with one parent at a time because of their jobs, it isn't easy and I don't like it, but I understand why it happens.
Dad and I talk about our days as we eat dinner, he talks about all my favourite patients; telling me that they missed me today while I am on bedrest, and I tell dad about some of the books I've read before I started my painting. It takes us a while to finish our dinner because of all of our talking, but we don't mind. Communication is a huge thing in our house, we have a very open home and secrets don't belong in our home; that is one thing our family prides itself on, among many other things.
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My mum has declared me off of bedrest after a week, so long as I promised to take things easy until I'm back to my old self. School goes back today, so to my dismay, I've had to wake up early and walk to school. Gamma Sam has made sure that the roads have been made safer to drive on, but it isn't enough to alleviate my anxiety on the way to school. The car accident was very confronting and has put me on edge, prepared but also frightened that it could happen again at a moments notice. Music plays through my earphones as I pick up my pace, wanting to get to school as soon as I can to get to the library, eager to borrow some more books. However, by the time I get to school; the bell rings, signalling the beginning of morning classes. My beloved library would have to wait.
I settle into my seat, waiting impatiently for my favourite person to walk through the door. The teacher begins introducing the work for today, delving into how to analyse Shakespeare after taking the roll. He still hasn't shown up by this time, which is perfectly normal for him. Soon after the teacher has commenced class; the door squeals open, leaving room for him to walk through, "late again Ryder, please find your seat without further interrupting the class." The teacher has given up on trying to get Ryder to come to class on time. He says nothing and response and my heart flutters as he smiles at me, walking to his seat next to me. Ryder and I have always been close, so close that we think we could be mates but we won't know for sure until after my birthday next month. We have been dating for 3 years now; I got a lot of hate in the beginning because Ryder is the future Alpha, but it soon smoothed over after people got used to the fact that he and I are together.
"Good morning beautiful, what'd I miss?" I try my best to look upset with him for being late, but he gives me those puppy eyes and pouty lip, knowing full well that I can never be upset with him when he does that.
"Good morning to you too, you would have known if you got to class on time like I keep telling you to. It isn't good for an Alpha to not be punctual," my tone is light, but we both know and understand the weight of my words. His expression turns sour as he huffs, facing the board; I've gotten used to his little tantrums, they only happen when we both know I'm right, but his precious little Alpha ego can't take being told what to do sometimes. I move my attention to the teacher, taking notes when appropriate and taking glances at Ryder every so often. The bell in this particular room is broken, causing it to shrill when it goes off. Everyone in the room winces a little; but I freeze in momentary shock when Ryder just gets up and leaves, he always waits for me and walks me to my locker. I shake off the shock and confusion, chasing after him.