Chasing Hearts

Two

It didn't take me long to unpack my things. I remembered the art store I saw in town and went to my father to ask if I could buy more art supplies.

"Why do you need that? You will be starting school tomorrow, you need to focus on that," he said.

"I don't have any school supplies, I thought it would be the best place to get cheap but good supplies for school."

He bought my lie and transferred money onto my bank card, gave me instructions on how to use it and I realized how far behind this place was when it came to technology. I was able to put the bank card on my phone along the way so I wouldn't be seen using such an expensive card.

I tried to look up the art store online and get the bus directions to it, then hopped the bus and admired the bright scenery as it drove alone. When I got to the store it was still open to my luck and it looked relatively empty.

I wandered inside and saw a girl around my age at the counter reading a magazine. I was a little shocked to see we shared a bit of the same ethnicity, except her features were much smoother and fairer than mine.

"Hi there, welcome! What are you looking for today?" she asked.

"I was wondering if you guys sold oil paints."

She frowned. "I don't know much about that, but my cousin would probably know more. Hold on," she said and disappeared into the back. I could hear muttering as I walked around the store to take a look at the art work on display.

"You're looking for oil paints?" a deep voice spoke behind me.

I turned to see a rather good-looking guy who looked to be my age but had a dull and bored look on his face which made me feel like I was being a nuisance.

"Yes, if you have any."

"You got any work to show?" He gestured to my messenger bag.

"Oh, yeah." I rushed to take off the bag and pull out my sketchbook.

He flipped through it with the same dull look on his face, then handed it back.

"Might want to perfect what you already know before you mess around with oil paints, they aren't cheap."

I was shocked. How the hell could he speak to a customer like that?

"Wow, do you speak to every potential client like this?" I asked.

He shrugged and turned to walk away into the back. The girl from earlier stood there awkwardly.

"I'm sorry about him, he is the owner, but he rarely deals with customers," she says.

"Yeah, I can see why. Thanks for the help." I shoved my sketchbook into my bag and walked out. I barely made it out the front door when someone pulled me back.

I turned to see the guy from before and he had a metal box in his hands. He put in in mine, then turned around without a word and walked back into the store. I opened the tin and was surprised to see a bunch of oil paints and brushes for me to use.

But they were all slightly used as if he gave me his own supplies. But why?

I sighed and shrugged to myself. Whatever the reason, I would be sure to pay him back later, but I had spent enough time outside of the house, I knew my father would be asking for me back soon and I still had to navigate my way around.

~*~

The next morning, I got ready in the school uniform and waited by the front door for either my father or Bianca to wake up and at least tell me where the school was. It was my father who woke up first and told me Bianca would be driving me to and from school for the time being until I could familiarise myself with everything.

Thankfully, Bianca was silent the entire ride and just blasted her music, but when we approached the main gates of the school, she stopped her car.

"You can walk from here; it should be easy enough. I don't want to be seen with you like this, or ever," she sneered.

I just rolled my eyes and got out of the car without a fuss. She drove off as soon as the door was shut. I hiked my bag up and started the long journey up the winding driveway to the school.

I got to the main office and picked up my locker combination and school schedule with a map. It seemed easy enough to get around, I just needed to remember what room number I had to go to for homeroom, and the rest was just following the class from one room to the next.

It wasn't much different than my school in Korea. There were Math, Science, English and Gym as the main classes. There were options of music, art, algebra and sports classes if you wanted to focus more on other things. I jumped when I saw the art classes and instantly signed up for them.

I found my homeroom rather quickly but was still one of the last people to show up. I saw two seats pushed together in the back row near the window and sat down, but the boy in front of me quickly turned around with a shocked and scared expression.

"I wouldn't sit there if I was you," he said.

I raised a brow at him. "Why not?"

"Reign Ferrante sits there, and he doesn't like anyone else sitting with him." He pointed to the seat next to me.

"Is there anywhere else for me to sit?"

He looked around the room and all the seats had been occupied.

"Then, it looks like I'm sitting here," I said, then proceeded to take out my supplies.

The teacher walked in, and I waited for this Reign Ferrante to show up, but even after the bell rang, there was no one. Maybe he was a frequent skipper, and I wouldn't see much of him, that would be ideal.

To my dismay, the class door opened minutes later, and I knew without looking it was my new seatmate. I kept my eyes down on my book as he took a seat next to me and sucked in a sharp breath when I felt him lean toward me.

"How is the oil painting coming along?"