Chapter ThirteenA Chapter by Blue IvoryDamn! "You're flunking?" he said, sounding disappointed, once Melissa sat down opposite of him.
"This is kinda how it's always been..." she told him, hoping he would let her off.
"I thought you were smart! You definitely sound smart all the time..." he complained. All of a sudden, he appeared to her more like a senior she had agreed to tutor and got him failed by accident, instead of someone closer to her mother's age as she normally knew him to be.
"I'm just a little distracted all the time." she argued.
"Not all the time. I remember a time when you used to be one of the best students in your class. It's that boy, isn't it? I did a little asking around. He goes to college, Melissa! What the hell are you doing hanging around with a college boy?" Now, Martin's disappointment was turning into exasperation.
"He's just 19!" She raised her voice.
"Do you know what you parents were doing when they were 19? I believe, they were secretly getting married, because Julie was pregnant. With you." Martin stated.
Melissa's face was flushed. Palely she stared at her hands that were resting on her knees. This was news to her. She knew her parents got married at a young age, but she didn't know the story behind it. To think, her whole life she saw them as people full of morals.
"I-I'm sorry, Melissa. I shouldn't have said that. I just want you to be careful, okay? I want us to stay as close as we were before. Let's go back to the old times, huh? Like when you were 5." Martin said, changing colors, and putting a hand over Melissa's. She felt a little strange at the touch, but thought nothing of it.
"He's a really nice guy, you know?" she young girl spoke after a moment of silence.
"I'm sure he is, Melissa, but you have to understand that underneath all of that he is just a boy. Boys can be stupid at times. And very convincing too." he gave her a look on the last sentence, to emphasize his implication.
"Ew! I don't wanna talk about this with you! Uncle Martin, this is weird." Melissa exploded.
"I'll change the subject, then. Back to your grades. Tell me, how on Earth did you manage to fail art? Literature and History, I get. Those are boring subjects. Math-though I had hoped you would get your father's talent in it-isn't everyone's cup of tea. But d****t, I've seen you draw. Even a blind man could appreciate your art, I bet. Is there something bothering you, Melissa? You can talk to me, you know, if there is." he put his hand on her shoulder this time.
"What? No, there's nothing that wrong with me. It's our stupid art teacher. He hates my guts." she said, annoyed at the fact that he'd tried to play therapist with her. It stung her a little when he said he didn't like lterature and history. After art, those were her favorites.
"Why would you say that? What can possibly make him fail you?" he asked, rather surprised at his niece's response.
"I don't know...Every single class, he just has to publicly humiliate me. He's never satisfied with anything. Nothing that I do, anyway. For some reason, every time Luke paints a picture, it's the best in the world!" Martin began to say something, but Melissa wasn't done. Oh, no. Melissa was just beginning. "And even Olivia! One time, she made a sketch of this stupid cat, and and Mr. Moore started to idolize her talent like she was the next Picasso or something. I saw her drawing, okay? It was completely disproportionate. Why would he do that? Why would he be so mean to me? Every single day, he makes a snide comment about how there are some wannabe artists present among us, and I swear, every time he does, he looks at me."
Melissa paused, her breathing heavy from the rage of remembering all these incidents from school. For a while, that silence remained, Martin being unable to find something to say that would top off the speech he just heard from a 15 year old little girl.
"Wait, is this the guy that said you needed more practice when he caught you painting when you were supposed to be making a pencil sketch?" he told her, as if a bright idea had just occurred to him.
"On the first day of school? Yeah." Melissa answered, confused.
"Oh God, Melissa. He's jealous!" he responded, now laughing.
"Jealous? Why on Earth would he be jealous of me? He's a grown man! I'm an amateur!" The idea seemed absurd to her.
"He's obviously just doing this because he's bothered by you on a personal level. Mel, think about it: Like you said, he's a grown man. A man who, by now, should have been a famous artist, as he had been bursting with potential when he was young. Probably around your age. His dreams didn't come true. So he wants to crush yours." In the midst of all of this dawning on her, Melissa could see Martin's eyes glowing bright with excitement. He leaned back in his chair crossing his arms. And that smile he had on was one full of sense of achievement. he really thought he'd solved a big mystery, hadn't he?
"You watch too much TV." she told him, "But you might be right." She didn't want to hurt his feelings. It was then that she remembered, Martin wasn't all that grown up after all. He had graduated from college just a few years ago.
After a silence, Martin spoke again.
"You know, you look just like your mother did when she was your age?" he said finally.
"You know mom when she was my age?" Melissa exclaimed. There was so much about her family she didn't know.
"Oh yeah, she used to be my neighbour. I was 6 at the time when she moved in. She was...beautiful!" he said, reminiscing his childhood memories. He was looking off into this space as if he could see it all happening on a screen behind her, that was visible to him only.
"Mom and dad never mentioned being neighbors." Melissa told him. She wondered why that was. Then she remembered she'd never really asked them about when they were teenagers. All the stories she'd heard were from their childhood. "I still remember the day she moved there. She was wearing a white T-Shirt with a picture of the Flinstones on it. And her hair was down. Your dad and I saw her from the window in our room and we kept gawking at her." he said, laughing shyly, "It took us forever to build up the courage to talk to her. Well, your dad got over his nervousness easily. He would be over at her house all the time. He used the dumbest excuses to be with her!" he started chuckling now. "Weren't you a kid back then? You've been crushing on her since that long ago?" she said. He stared back at her in shock. So she knows. "Is that why you're not married?" she asked him boldly. "You're getting way too smart for your age, kid!" he said, getting up the chair, "Use your brains on your tests, and I promise to get you a decent present this time. Come on! I know there's more you want than just art supplies. Maybe I'll even get you an iPhone..." he tempted her while walking out of the room. And with that, her fantasies of shopping commenced again... © 2013 Blue IvoryFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
390 Views
5 Reviews  Last Updated on April 7, 2013 Author
Blue IvoryDhaka, BangladeshAboutI am a sugarcoated wreck. A cupcake with a chipped human tooth baked inside it. I breathe out soot left behind by the corpses you tried to bury but I come to you served in a silver platter. A hot.. more..Writing
|
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing