Dirty Secrets

Part 12

In the morning, Lyla and Shaniece followed two girls down the hallway. Lyla's hair, still wet from showering, dampened the neck of her hoodie.

"Did you eat those waffles?" Lyla asked.

"Mine were still cold in the middle." Shaniece grimaced.

"Mine were burnt. How do they not know how to operate a toaster?"

"If I drop any more weight, Imma need a belt to hold up my sweats."

Lyla cracked up.

They entered the Activities Room, a few stragglers wandering in behind them. In the center of the room stood a long table where stacks of papers, watercolor kits, markers, and pastels were neatly organized.

"Welcome to art therapy," said a tall, willowy woman with large glasses, long dark hair and a gentle voice. "My name is Prisha. You may have guessed, I'm an art therapist."

On her way to a chair, Lyla was surprised to see Clover sitting by herself at a side table. Lyla smiled at her, hoping to make eye contact. Clover dropped her head, her hands folded rigidly in her lap.

Shaniece took the seat across from Lyla. She let out a long, perturbed sigh that drew Prisha's attention.

"What're we supposed to draw? Or paint? Or whatever?"

"Whatever you like. There's no wrong way to create art. Celebrate who you are."

Lyla rolled her eyes.

Where do they find these people?

Prisha presented a 2 by 3 piece of poster board adorned with colorful cut paper shapes. "Someone created this yesterday. I think it's very powerful. And beautiful."

Amidst the assortment of art supplies, Lyla noticed a stack of colored paper, glue sticks, and small kiddie scissors, the kind with rounded blades.

Prisha continued. "Sometimes it's difficult to put your feelings into words. So the art you make about how you're feeling or your past experiences can be more helpful than just trying to talk it out."

"I can cut and glue paper but I can't draw for shit," said Shaniece.

Prisha gestured to the assortment of art supplies. "Help yourself to whatever you need to create."

For Lyla, art had two default settings. The rose and the goldfish, the only two things she had ever drawn. She drew them hundreds of times since she was old enough to hold a crayon. She was okay with drawing them again.

She looked up at Shaniece who busied herself with cutting paper. Over Shaniece's shoulder, Lyla watched Clover feverishly coloring with vigorous movements of her arms.

Lyla selected a dark crayon and began the familiar process of drawing the semi-circular petals of the rose around its center.

During the course of the next half hour, Lyla had finished her rose and had outlined her goldfish. For the first time, it occurred to her that the rose petals and the scales of her goldfish were essentially the same semi-circular shapes. She dipped her paintbrush into a jar of water then swabbed it around the orange watercolor paint and proceeded to add color to the outline of her fish. She wished that she would have drawn the fish with a marker instead of with crayon. The waxy outline repelled water and so the goldfish didn't look as golden as she'd hoped.

She glanced across the table at Shaniece who was finishing her artwork. Yellow, orange and red diamond shapes arced across her poster board like a rainbow.

"Not too bad, am I right?" she said.

"It's pretty."

Lyla noticed that Clover was no longer in her seat. She looked around the room. No sign of Clover.

"Okay, everyone," said Prisha in her soothing therapeutic voice. "Let's take a few minutes to walk around the table and admire our friends' artwork."

"Mine sucks," Natalie groaned.

"If anyone would prefer to keep their artwork private, we will respect that. Cover it or turn it face down on the table."

Natalie mumbled, "You all can look if you want. Just wanna warn you. It sucks ass."

"No one will judge the art you make," said Prisha. "It's for you to help you understand more about yourself."

The girls took a slow walk around the table observing the artwork.

"Hey, Lyla," said A.J. "I like your fish."

"Thanks."

When Lyla arrived at the end of the table she glanced toward the side table where Clover had been working. There were three sheets of paper. The one on top featured a drawing of a snake swallowing its tail.

Lyla's heart rate accelerated. The lines were drawn with ferocious energy, as though Clover had been using her markers to rip through the paper.

Why did Clover draw Keenan's ring?

Lyla haltingly stepped to the table and lifted the top sheet. Her eyes widened in horror. In the same frenetic style was a drawing of a hand emerging from the ground.

"Lyla," Prisha called. "Miss Perry."

She turned, her face ashen, the paper shaking in her hand.

Reading Lyla's heightened state of anxiety, Prisha offered a warm smile and a tranquil tone. "Come back to our table, Lyla." 

"Where's Clover?"

Shaniece and the others turned to face Lyla.

"I want to know why she drew these."

"That's artwork from students in another class." Prisha gently took the paper from Lyla's hand. 

The marker drawing of the snake swallowing its tail had vanished. In its place was an abstract piece with bold colored patterns.

Lyla's eyes went to the other paper. Instead of a drawing of a hand emerging from the ground, there was a design created of a swarm of emojis, most with crying faces.