Art class, a class Mace often made fun of for being so stupid and pointless. He always made fun of people that were in art by choice, if you were put in that class by force, he'd understand. But to be in the gayest class willingly? He found it dumb.

Mace did know that it was a credits class. You need one art credit to have you graduate, and he knew he needed to pass the class to continue playing in sports.

You chose to be in the class. Why? Who knows. And, unfortunately, you had to sit next to Mace. Mace was in a class with many people he often bullied, and you were one of them.

Sitting at a table, a poster board sitting in the middle. This week's project was for you to draw on one half of the board and your partner draw on the other half so it meets in the middle and is a side-by-side of arts types.

Mace messed with pencils, twirling a pencil between his fingers and just being annoying to all the other students. He ended up drawing a sad face on his side of the board and put the pencil down.

"Art class is so gay," gay as in stupid.