There was no sound to be heard. No screams, no gossip, giggles and whining were scarcly heard, if that.
It was, in your opinion, the best time of the day. After all, how could you focus on drawing when the girl who sits next to you in history won't shut up about Alfred's ass?
Oh yes, being in the art room, with a pad and a pencil, accompanied by that beautiful golden silence, was absolutly amazing. Well, it was silent, until the door was violently thrown open and the clack of three identical hot pink high heels echoed through the nearly deserted art room. Tearing your eyes away from the scetch pad, you looked up at the girls, and met three identical females with identical smirks plastered to their makeup covered faces. Ok, maybe they weren't completly identical, but all popular girls looked the same to you.
The tallest of the girls, with long blond hair and bright blue eyes, stepped forward and glanced at your scetch pad with a sneer. "Who's that supposed to be, ____?" She mocked, though you were quite sure she couldn't do any better.
"None of your buisness." You retorted coldy. "Now go away."
She pretended not to hear you and quickly grabbed the scetch pad. "Oh, I know who it is now! Matthew Williams!" She laughed, noticing the red covering your cheeks. "How fitting! A nerd and a nerd!"
"Give. It. Back." You snarled, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. You were quite willing to break her arm if it meant getting your scetch pad back, a fact she knew quite well, but she didn't seem to care.
She would have retorted, were the scetch pad not swiped out of her hands. Baby blue eyes glared at the blond girl. "And what do you think you're doing?"
The girl's glare changed into a simpering smile that quite sickened you to look at. "Alfred!" She moved closer to the American. "How are you doing?"
He remained firm. "Leave."
Her smile faded. "But, Al-."
Pausing to shoot you a look of pure loathing, the girl took her friends and left the art room.
"Thanks, Alfred." You muttered as he took a seat next to you.
"No problem, bro!" His baby blue eyes looked over the drawing, eyebrows raised. "Hey, isn't this Matthew?"
"Yeah." You replied, the blush on your cheeks darkening. Truth be told, you've always had a crush on Matthew, even when you were best friends in preschool, playing hide and seek and sharing chocolate milk at lunch.
Matthew had been so outgoing back then, always protecting you from his obnoxious brother Alfred, who seemed determined to flip up your skirt or steal your snack and make you cry. Matthew was your hero then and, even now, he still sort of was.
Years passed by and, while Alfred stayed his obnoxious self, Matthew seemed to get quieter and quieter with each passing year. He's barely noticed nowadays, and even the teachers tend to forget who is.
There is one thing about Alfred that changed, though: he now had a crush on you, much to your surprise and complete and utter disgust. It was the reason why all the girls hated you, seeing as they all had a crush on sports star, ultra popular hottie Alfred F. Jones. Most girls would kill to be in your shoes, but you'd gladly kill to get out of them.
"Why'd you draw it?" The American questioned.
You smiled slightly. "Well, I was planning to confess to him with it." The American stiffened, his expression stone cold.
"What's wrong, Alfred?" You asked, eyebrows raised. Before you even realized what was happening, Alfred pressed his lips to yours. You squeaked, eyes wide, as you tried to pull away.
There was suddenly a faint scream at the door. Alfred pulled away and you both looked at the source. Standing there was little Matthew, violet eyes wider than you ever saw them before, fingers clenched into tight fists. "I-I'm sorry I interupted!" He squeaked before running away.
"Matthew!" You protested, standing up. "Aw, dammit!"
Before Alfred could stop you, you grabbed your scetch book and ran after the Canadian.
You found him sitting under the tallest tree on school grounds, the same tree in which you and Matthew had shared many conversations. You sat next to him, your lips upturning into a smile. "Hey."
He looked up at you, violet eyes watery and tears streaking down his flushed cheeks. "Yes?"
"That wasn't what it looked like." You explained. "The kiss was extremly onesided, I could never like Alfred. The only reason I was in the art room was to finish drawing this." You flipped through the worn pages of your charcoal sketched, painted, and inked scetch book until you reached the illusration of Matthew you'd been working on for several days.
He examined it, eyes wide. "W-Why, eh?"
You smile widened. "Because I love you, stupid."
You would have said more had Matthew kept his lips to himself.