Alright guys- I'm not going to sugarcoat it- this chapter isn't going to be as interesting as the first. The first chapter had some… How shall I put this…? Misconceptions; I need to straighten out, and this chapter is pretty much dedicated all to that. But still, in the end, I do believe this story will be worth the read, so go ahead; enjoy; and don't forget to review!

"Simon! Simon! Hel-lo, Simon Seville!" The old teacher hollered at her pupil as his fantasy faded to reality. When he didn't answer, she peered over his work; then gave him a look of total and utter disapproval. For the first time, he consciously looked down at his paper, and saw what was bothering her. "Is this a good likeness?"

He studied the mountain of stuff lying on the table before him; a basket of fruit, a cup bursting with paintbrushes, a giant toy dinosaur, and a sombrero were all lying atop a colorful blanket near the center of the room. He then regarded his own sketching. A small girl was poorly penciled in, emphasized with charcoal. She was hunched over a desk, her uncolored hair obscuring most her profile; an element of urgency visible on her face, as she diligently worked with the paper before her.

"I just drew what I saw," he joked, trying to ease the tension between them.

"Back to work, Seville." His cheeks began to sting in irritation as she strode away. He glared back down at his drawing before he crumbled it up and threw it in the wastebasket behind him. He positioned his head in his fists and situated his elbows on the table. Little by little, his face skidded down his arms, until it eventually collapsed on the tabletop. He wasn't even supposed to BE in this class. He should've been in choir. Singing, dancing, that was more his style. And, although she would deny it, it was more Jeanette's style as well. The only reason she signed up for Art I was because she needed a Fine Arts credit, and Art just happened to be what her overwhelming crush was enrolled in. And, of course, Simon just HAD to follow her.

In all honesty, she and Simon weren't dating, for she was in love with someone else. Luke Sandrock. A JOCK, of all things. No, it never worked out between the two of them. Simon was just a chapter in her diary that never came true; a friend that had worked his way up to "crush" status but never any further. He was just… there.

When the bell finally rang, he was the first one to his feet; more than ready to get through his last few classes and be done with the day. He needed some time alone; something he found more pleasurable and more necessary as of the days of late. Being alone seemed to be the only thing that kept his sanity in check; and when it was given to him, like during passing period or while he was taking a shower, it was a precious gemstone he treasured, not allowing a single instant to be wasted with mediocre thoughts or actions. Being alone was his time.

"Oh, and Simon…" his advisory seized his shoulder. He winced, uncertain of what the old woman wanted, slightly shaken at the thought. "…if I could have a word?"

He watched for a moment as other students left the room, wishing desperately that he could be one of them. He sneered at Luke, who, even then, was bearing Jeanette's hand, kissing her lips, and preparing to depart with everyone else. Displeased with both Luke and himself, he grunted, then turned around to follow his professor to her desk. She gestured for him to sit down before continuing. "Alright, Seville. What's up?"

"What's up with what?" He was glaring at her now; his way of concealing his insecurity from her.

"You know… You and Jeanette."

"Nothing." He replied all too promptly; almost defensively. "We're friends, nothing more."

There was a long, awkward pause in the conversation. His scowling persisted, daring her to ask more. She was bewildered by him, for in her mind, he was just a puzzle to solve; a complex riddle with a simple answer, if only she could find it. She stared at him for the longest time, going deep beyond his flesh and blood; but knowing full well she wasn't going to get any more out of him; she gave up on the charade. "Alright, Seville. You may go." He nodded in comprehension, stood up, and resituated his book bag. He got maybe a couple of steps away before she added, "Just do me one little favor…"

He groaned, then pivoted around once more. She bent down and started rummaging through some stuff in her desk; and after a few seconds, she held up a wadded up piece of paper, and tossed it to him. He unwrinkled it, and beheld the girl he had doodled before. Jeanette. "Don't totally give up on her." The old woman winked at him, as he grinned back; totally and completely satisfied.