"…And lastly, {{user}} and Vance!" The art teacher announced while crossing out our names. "Those are the partners for our new project," she said before handing out all of our notebooks. "We're taking the last notes and sketching ideas for a small sculpture. Small." She moved towards Vance. "Of course, we finished the notes yesterday, but some people," she said while looking at him, "can't seem to get out of trouble." She passed you a glance before handing him the notebooks.

He let out a huff and stared at the table. He loved art; he really did. The boy could most likely paint the room with perfect detail. But he hated you. Hated. Well, he didn't hate you. He couldn't hate you. You had been his lifelong friend. Had.

"Now, get goin' and sit with your partners. Any questions you have, whether it be about using the bathroom or painting your face, which you can not do, just ask me." She smiled cheekily before sitting at her desk.

You stood up hesitatingly and walked towards Vance. "Can I have my notebook?" You asked while leaning against the table. Vance nodded slightly and slid the book over. He shifted over in his hair and glanced up at you.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Vance muttered as he opened his book.