Homepage › Stories › Difficulties › Chapter 1

Difficulties

♕ One ♕

“Cecil and...” Mr. Maxwell said looking around the room at all the students. Cecil Elaine Moody was my full name. I didn’t mind too much at the fact my last name was Moody. I still had a numerous amount of friends and was still popular beyond words, so I didn’t see a problem with it.
“Don’t say it. Don’t say it,” I crossed my newly painted fingers underneath the dark wooden desk as I whispered to myself. I did not want to be paired with the one person in the class I was always paired with. Please, don’t let it be him. It’s not that I had a problem with the boy. I had actually met him this year and he was quite sweet; he just wasn’t my clique’s cup of tea.
“Marcel,” his lips formed into a wide devious smile. The smile I seriously disliked at times like these. Mr. Maxwell, my art teacher, knew how much everyone disliked Marcel, and I always seemed to be the one stuck with him. I wouldn’t usually say “stuck”. It just seemed that I was the only one who would talk to and interact with Marcel. At first I just did it out of pity, but after hanging out with him a couple times, I’ve grown to enjoy being his friend. Yet the only thing I was unhappy about was the fact Mr. Maxwell always paired us up for these little assignments. At some point while Mr. Maxwell was making more pairings, I could hear the small giggles here and there of most the kids in my class, and I knew they were all directed at me. None of them had ever gotten paired with Marcel. Not me though. He was the most nerd of the school, with his bland colored vests, and big dorky glasses. He was always following me around; apparently I was his only ‘friend’. Of course I felt bad that no one was jumping at the chance to be his friend, they needed to get past the looks and really get to know him.
“Now, your project is to combine your artistic skill with your partner,” Mr. Maxwell said looking directly at me. He had something up his sleeve, I saw it in his eyes, and it sent shivers down my spine. What was he going to have me do? “I believe Cecil and Marcel should come up here and demonstrate. Cecil can go first.” I rolled my eyes and pushed myself out of my chair, as did Marcel except without the sigh. I didn’t like where this was going at all. Art had always been my best subject against all the rest, but I didn’t expect to get Mr. Maxwell as my teacher this year.
“Uhm. Mr. M? I can’t draw at all,” Marcel said as he adjusted his glasses and looked over at me with nervous brown eyes. I looked up at him and bit my lip out of sympathy, I had to. He was six foot four even while I was only five foot six.
“What I want you to do Cecil is draw something. Anything really.” Mr. Maxwell said patting my back reassuringly, “And after she’s done you get to add your own little flare okay, Marcel?”
I picked up a black Expo-marker and began to make numerous lines. I didn’t have a single idea as to what I was drawing on the board. All I knew was that I was supposed to draw something on the board for the class. So after a few more minutes of scrawling on the bored I turned to the side and showed the class what I had drawn. It turned out to be a decent looking girl. One I’d never think I could draw on a white board.
“Oh, I guess it’s my turn then,” Marcel whispered in my ear. At this point I felt beyond bad as I could hear a numerous amount of giggles behind me. Marcel was the perfect student; he basically excelled in everything, except art. I’ve been friends with Marcel for about a five months now, I found out that I had all the same classes with him. In a matter of minutes my beautiful art work was destroyed. Marcel attempted to add a flower crown to the girl. It failed epically and looked more like a giant slab of wood poorly drawn on the head of the girl. Mr. Maxwell signaled Marcel and I to take our seats.
“As you see class, this is a perfect example of what we’re going to be doing. I’m pairing you up based on your artistic ability. Cecil being the best artist here and…” his old grey eyes focused on Marcel’s brown ones, “Marcel being the… not so best. Your goal is, as the superior, to teach the other how to draw. As the superior, you must draw something pretty and complex, teach your partner some techniques then have the replicate your draw. The closer it looks to yours, the better score you will get.”
I knew from where I stood that Marcel’s eyes were as wide as an egg. He hated everything that was art. During our first major project of the year Marcel thought it would be cool to splatter red paint on the trees of the landscape we were supposed to be making. He was aiming at it looking like blood so that all the kids would think that he was into the XBox and PS3. Sadly that failed and he spilled the whole container of red paint on the project. Deep down I know Marcel’s trying his hardest to fit in. The bell sounded and in a flash I grabbed my backpack and bolted to the door.
“Cecil!” Mr. Maxwell yelled before I could reach the door, which made me end up at his desk.
“Yes?” I asked as nicely as I could. It was lunchtime; I was hungry and wanted to grab a table for me and Marcel before my clique got to the table and denied Marcel’s request to sit with us.
“It seems Marcel would like to speak to you without people in the room. He has asked me if I could let you two talk things out in here for a minute,” he nodded and grabbed a stack of papers on his desk before leaving the room and shutting the door.
I crossed my arms and put on my best smile, leaning against the desk, looking up at Marcel, “What’d you want to talk about? But make it quick because we have to go to lunch quick before people take our tables.” My tone was filled with sweetness, just as it usually was when talking to him. I felt like I was the only one in the whole school who was nice to him.
“Cecil I ugh..” he stuttered out speaking softly as he looked away from me.
“Yes, Marcel?” I asked him.
“Sorry, Cecil,” he said, looking back at me, “I forgot what I was going to say, let’s get going to lunch.” As he spoke he moved so that he was already next to the door, his glasses sat on the top of his nose.
I quickly shrugged it off and followed behind him as we left the classroom and went down the nearly empty halls. “Oh hey Marcel! Is there a girl you want to ask to prom this year? I know I have a guy, I’m hoping he’ll ask me!”
“Well Cecil, I do have a girl I want to ask to prom,” Marcel had a goofy smile on his face as he looked down at me, “Who do you want to ask you out?”
“Oh me? Hm, I’m hoping Leeroy will ask me! Eep! I hope he does,” I said biting the corner of my lip. Leeroy was this hunk on the tennis team that almost every girl wanted and the fact that he’s been talking to be a lot more has my hopes up beyond everything that he’ll ask me to prom. I looked over at Marcel and his wide smile had disappeared and we remained silent on the rest of the way to the cafeteria.