Today, her shoulders are defeated in class. Her earbuds in, her head turned down and the golden
halo of hair hiding her pretty and tormented face.
I am not the only one who notices her. There are two boys in the back who have eyes on her too. I
can’t be sure if it is the teacher in me or the man who tells them to get back to work.
She misses the entire interaction altogether. And too often, during class, I find my eyes drawn to
her. To the delicate curve of her neck. Her hands as they work. So precise and yet so stagnate.
Of all of my students, I know she is the one who needs the most work. Not with the skills
themselves. But with allowing herself the freedom to create without fear. Something is holding her
back.
And both the artist and the man in me want to coax it out of her, but in entirely different ways.
Instead, I avoid her altogether. Even though I tell myself that I am here to help these students. To
make a difference in someone’s life. To do something good in an effort to make up for all of the bad. I
do not possess the self-control I need to guide her in the right way. I do not trust myself alone with
her, and yet I know she will not open up in front of anyone else.
The delicate butterfly. The graceful dancer. And the tortured artist.
I want to see what it is she harbors in that mind of hers. I want to see what she can create when her
potential is fully unlocked and unbridled.
But in the back of my mind, I also know that I am not the right person to give that to her. I am the
worst person to give that to her. Of that I am certain. Because I would taint her with my darkness.
I just know. Because I can’t help myself.
Chapter Six
Chloe
When I get to the studio tonight, I hesitate before going inside.
I know he’s here. Because the room is dimly lit. And I can see his shadow on the tile floor before I
even step inside.
I should go. But I don’t want to.
So I walk in and move to my table. The same way that I always do. My eyes downcast. Leaving
him to his solitude until I know I won’t be caught looking at him.
But tonight is different. Because I can feel his attention on me already. Instead of on his blank
paper.