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Chapter Forty Two

"I need all of this?"

"That's what they said."

I understood now why I had gotten so many art supplies for Christmas and my birthday. The required supplies list for the art school I was going to attend was massive. I had everything packed into a rolling art bag.

"Dad's going to take you and then pick you up for your driver's test," mom explained.

It was a big day for me. I was starting back to school and I was taking the written part of my driver's test. After I passed that, it would be a few weeks of practice on the road and then I would be a licensed driver.

Dad was waiting for me by the door as I yanked the bag behind me. He took it from me and we headed to the car.

"Are you nervous?"

I shook my head. "Nothing could be worse than Prep."

It was about a twenty minute ride. The school was small, but just like Prep, looked like a building full of the 'well-to-do.'

That's when the nervousness kicked in. Not only was I the new kid at school, but I was the PREGNANT new kid at school.

"If you have any problem call me," dad said. I opened the door, turned, and paused. I turned back and kissed his cheek. He smiled.

"Love you dad," I said. I got out. I opened the back door and yanked the rolling bag out.

"Love you too Shelster."

He drove away and I stood there staring at the door. I could bolt, but I could already smell the paint and the canvas. It was too enticing.

I opened the door and headed in. My first stop was the principal's office. A receptionist was busy at the desk. But she wasn't typing. She was drawing.

"Excuse me," I said. She looked up and smiled.

"Are you Shelby?"

I'm pretty sure at Prep that I was just referred to as student #32825. I nodded.

"We've been expecting you."

The receptionist got up and held out her hand.

"I'm Principal Allen."

That really surprised me. Usually principals hunkered down behind closed doors to wile away the day. I shook her hand and felt myself relax.

"You have two classes devoted specifically to art," she explained. "Of course, we also have a strong dedication to traditional subjects," she continued. "But you'll find that we incorporate art in unique ways in even the core topics."

I was given a quick tour of the cafeteria, restrooms and the layout of the classrooms. When we were done, Principal Allen stopped in front of a door and handed me my schedule.

"This is your first class."

We walked in and the smell of raw clay assailed my senses.

There were only about eleven kids in the class. They looked up as we walked in. The teacher or instructor or whatever they were called came over and took a look at my schedule. He was a tall man with a thin goatee and black glasses. He looked like he should be beating on bongos in a New York City cafe.

"Welcome Shelby," he said. "I'm Mr. Scott. You'll start your mornings off with me and my friends here learning the fine art of sculpting."

I smiled. I had always wanted to work with clay.

Principal Allen talked to Mr. Scott for a few seconds and then left. Mr. Scott pointed at an empty spot at the front of the room.

"Before you sit down, why don't you introduce yourself?"

I grimaced inwardly. Even so, I took a breath and faced my peers.

"I'm Shelby McLean. I like abstract art and I used to attend Tampa Prep. I hate plastics and dumb jocks."

Surprisingly, a couple people nodded and a guy in the back laughed.

I took my seat. Minutes later, I was absorbed in the concepts of sculpting. The school seemed to be scheduled out to resemble college. It was technically everyone's first day in the class because it was a new 'semester'. We didn't even touch the wheel or clay or anything, but Mr. Scott had us all so pumped up by the end that I couldn't wait until tomorrow.

"He's cool. I've had him before," the guy who had laughed earlier said as we all got up. I looked to my left. He was addressing me.

"Do you sculpt?"

The guy had skin the color of dark coffee and dread locks down to his waist. He smiled.

"I do a little bit of everything."

"Taurus is our resident master artiste," a light voice said. A second later, a girl so pale that she could have been mistaken for a vampire slid up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. Then she held her hand out to me.

"I'm Apple," she said. Taurus smiled.

"And even though I've obviously been introduced already, I'm Taurus."

"Shelby," I said. "But you knew that..." I trailed off awkwardly.

"What's your speciality?"

"Speciality?"

Apple smiled. "Scultping, abstract, junk art?"

"Oh, I love abstract."

"Sweet. What class do you have next?"

I glanced down and groaned. "English Lit."

"So do we. We'll walk with you."

By the end of the day, I actually had learned the names of ten different people and held conversations that didn't involve hairspray, body waxing, or sweat glands.

Apple was in every single one of my classes. As we headed out of our last class, she walked companionably by my side.

"So when are you due?"

I had almost forgotten about the whole 'pregnant' new student thing.

"What? Oh, May."

Apple smiled. "They say you're at your most creative when you're pregnant," she said. "Whatcha having?"

"I don't know yet," I said. "I'll know in a couple weeks."

Apple smiled. "Well, keep us posted!"

She headed out of a side exit. I watched her go. I headed out the main doors. Dad was leaning against the car waiting.

"How'd it go?" he asked. He took my bag from me.

"Amazing," I said.

Maybe it was because I had spent the day with pseudo-hippies, but I felt extremely good karma.

"You ready for your driver's test?"

I wanted to keep the positive vibe going. I cracked my knuckles.

"I sure am."

Two hours later, I ran into the house screaming at the top of my lungs. Mom looked up. I shook my paper.

"I PASSED MY TEST!"

Dad wasn't quite as happy. I had a sneaking feeling he was hoping I wouldn't pass. And I knew why.

In just two days I was going to get behind the wheel and actually get to drive somewhere.

Driving meant being able to travel. And in my mind, traveling would give me enough confidence to start pressing the issue about moving to Kentucky. I had to prove that I didn't need to rely on my parents all the time.

And it also meant growing up.