Book update- It's a BONUS twofer!!! "What Happened to Rufus", and "Art Can Be Whatever You Like"

In case you need to catch up: All previous Chapters

And, here's your update, enjoy!
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Chapter 5: What Happened to Rufus?

Harold was the first one at the corner, he looked at his phone. He had around 5 minutes before the bus would show up...

And yet, 7 minutes later, he was still the only one there. Kait lived up the road, she missed the bus and bummed a ride from her older brother often enough... But Joe Jones lived at the house directly behind his, and it was unlike him to be so late.

He heard bus-noises rising over the houses. It was coming up the backstreets, loud and clumsy.

"Wait!" Joe's voice from the distance. Since they shared a backyard, Harold wasn't totally shocked to see Joe come plodding through the bushes.

The bus came into view right then, turning towards the stop.

"Harry, tell him to wait!"

Harold kinda hated it when people called him Harry. And Joe Jones hated it when people called him by his first and last name. But they were good friends, and how else should they address each other.

Joe was running full throttle, and the chubby parts were bouncing madly. Harold made no effort to conceal his amusement- he pointed and laughed.

"Tell him wait!" He was red in the face, still 3 houses away, and running hard.

"Better get a ride from your mother Joe Jones, just knock first because Stephen might be doing that right this minute!"

Breaks hissed, and the bus came to a rocking stop.

"FUCK YOU HARRY, FOR MENTIONING HIM! And yuck!" Harold chuckled, but let up a bit when he saw Joe clutching his side.

The doors opened, Harold put one foot on the first step, and held the railing, looked up at the driver. "My friend is on his way."

The driver shook his head and thumbed his chest. "This bus waits for no-one. Get on."

Harold stayed where he was one foot on, one foot off. He knew the driver couldn't shut the door, couldn't do anything with him hanging on the step.

He saw the same mounting frustration between the driver's eyes as he saw behind Hanlon's, and Harold wondered why so many powerless adults took such strange pleasure in exerting their will over students-

His thoughts were interrupted. Joe came up behind him, the very picture of exhaustion. Doubled over, sweat clung to his eyebrows, and sideburns.

"Thanks Harry."

Harold climbed onto the bus, and shot back over his shoulder, "You shouldn't be that tired, Joe Jones. You're a fat fuck, but you should be able to run from our houses to the stop. I'm serious man, just telling you the tough truths... for your health."

The driver honked the horn, both boys turned to look. "Profanity! Not on my bus, Mr. Maria!"

They turned their backs on him and chose their seats.

Joe mopped his forehead, then his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "You're an asshole Harry. I've been running around the backstreets all morning, trying to find Rufus. You haven't seen him?" He was still wiping sweat from his eyes.

Harold shook his head. "No man. Sorry." He settled into his seat. "And sorry for bringing up your step dad with that joke about your mother. It was low, I didn't realize you had other stuff on your plate."

"It's ok. He's not so bad lately. He was out this morning helping us look. Even printed up some missing posters with pictures of Rufus. Fingers crossed. That poor puppy is too dumb to keep itself alive without us."

Harold crossed his fingers too. He tried to see that little fuzz ball on the hunt... He failed. The only image he could conjure: Rufus running through the woods, trembling with fear.

"Why didn't I hear you guys yelling for him?"

"Mom said not to. Said it would just scare him away. You know Rufus, she's right. He'd just keep hiding if he heard us yelling."

Harold shrugged. "You're mom's not so dumb after all. Hey, why didn't you knock on my door or shoot me a text? I was up early anyhow, would've helped look."

Joe's turn to shrug. "If I knew you were awake I would have. Why were you up early?"

"I was washing the dirt of my wolf skull."

"You're disgusting. Is that some kind of whack slang? I don't wanna know."

"No for real. At least, I think it's a wolf. Look." He unzipped his back pack, and carefully unwrapped the skull.

"What! Where the hell did you find that?"

"Dad and I were digging a fire pit."

"I saw the hole when I was cutting through your backyard. Would've fallen in if it was darker outside. Lemme see that thing."

He passed the skull over for Joe to hold, and hold up his bandaged finger in a gesture of caution. "Careful though. The edge is sharp."

"You got cut by this thing, Harry? Better get your rabies shot." Joe Jones laughed at his own joke.

Harold did not. "Very funny... More like tetanus anyway. Hey why don't you shoot Kait a text, so she knows to keep an eye out for Rufus."

Joe got a pathetic look in his eyes. It was obvious he was yearning. "I already did. She hasn't replied."

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BONUS Chapter 6: Art Can Be Whatever You Want

He'd always thought his bio teacher was one of the smartest people in the school. He couldn't fully pinpoint why he felt that way. It wasn't just her command of the material, or the clarity with which she spoke. It was something in her expression, something behind her eyes. She seemed to constantly question, like she truly lived by the tenets of scientific skepticism. She did speak with confidence, but she didn't claim certainty with things that weren't proven truths.

She looked intently at the skull, and traced her finger across the jaw line.

"Careful around that crack on the top." He waved his bandaged finger. "I got cut."

"I hope you cleaned it well. Lots of risk of infection with something like this."

He nodded. "Yep. And my dad wants me to get some shots. Tetanus."

"Good. He's right." She gently laid it on her desk, and stood to wash her hands in the lab sink. "Sure, I can try to ID it for you. 

During my office hours, but that's not until 1. Can you leave it with me for a couple hours and pick it up before dismissal?"

"Thanks Mrs. Isaac!"

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Emily tried to conceal her smile when she saw Harold come through the door.

But their eyes met, and though it was only for a second it was long enough to be caught looking.

So she made it concrete, and un-hid her smile.

His cheeks got red, and she saw him take a deep breath, and walked towards her. He took the seat directly opposite her, and laid his bag on the paint stained table... He smiled back.

The silence grew heavy. She wanted to say thanks for yesterday, but when she opened her mouth he started to speak, "Emily, I..." She heard him swallow. "I like art."

She smiled to reassure him. "Good thing we're in art class."

He chuckled. "Yeah. Good thing we are.... You know-"

She blurted, "I tried to catch up with you after Hanlon let us out, but... I just wanted to say thanks, not just for the pencil. That was nice, but I really mean thanks for sticking up for me."

He raised his eyebrows and just looked at her. His blush grew a little deeper. Finally he said, "That guy's just a jerk. But I've never seen you here before, where did you move from?"

"I didn't move. I've always lived just down the road from here, but my parents have been sending me to Queen of Peace. And I've been begging them to put me in public schools every year. Now that I'm a senior, they finally caved."

The teacher shut the door.

He leaned over the art table, "Why did you want them to put you in public schools?"

She grinned. "I'm not as Catholic as they are... And I'm just not that into girls."

They both laughed.

The teacher asked for the class to clear their bags off the tables.

While everyone shuffled, Harold spoke to her in voice no-one else could hear, "Well I'm glad they put you here."

"Listen up people, this is the deal." The teacher had messy hair, and dangly earrings. "My name is Miss Day. This class is art. Art can be whatever you want it to be. And you can get as much out of it as you want, if you put in the effort. I'm not going to crack the whip in here, unless I really have to. For the most part, I want this class to be expressive. When I'm talking, I think you should listen so you don't get lost. But most of your time here will be spent actually doing art. While you are working, I want you to relax, have fun, talk with the person across from you. But you guys are young adults. If you need to focus, do so. If the person across form you won't let you focus, tell them to shut up. Got it?"

The class grunted their assent.

"Our first project comes in three parts- and will therefore span three classes. The first part a sketch from memory. The next part is a sketch with a model. The last part is imaginative, a sketch of what you'd like to see. This being our first class, we're going to jump right in."

She passed out papers, and drawing pencils.

"Now I don't care how well you draw it, but you need to draw something you saw last night, strictly from memory. Do your best, but know I don't care how 'good' the drawing is. We're doing this to illustrate a point."

Emily heard two boys banter from across the room.

"Whatchya gonna draw from last night there, Pete? Your hand on your little-"

"Nope, I think I'm gonna draw your mom on my-"

"Boys," Miss Day interjected, "before you get to carried away, let me explain- the next assignment, you'll need to bring the thing you are trying to draw from memory into class, so you can sketch it by sight. Since nobody's bringing anyone else's mom in to model for our art class, let's choose something portable, and small enough to fit on these tables."

Pete raised his hand, and asked her, "What if I've got pictures?"

"Shut up Pete!" The other boy's face was stone.

"Okay, that's plenty of that."

Emily chuckled, she knew better than to laugh out loud. That kind of humor would never have flown at Queen of Peace...

Harold seemed to sense her amusement, "Welcome to public schools."

She bowed her head, "Thank you. What are you going to draw?"

"Well, I'm not very good... But I'm gonna draw an animal skull."

Her eyes widened, and he hurried to explain, "It's not weird. My dad and I were digging a fire pit and I found it" He raised his bandaged hand, "That's how I got this. Anyway I brought it into Mrs. Isaac, in the hopes she could tell me what it was."

She smiled broadly, she was comfortable enough now to tease him, "That's kinda cool... But you know if you hafta say a thing isn't weird, it probably is."

"Yeah, oops. Too late now. But I hope I'm not too weird to sit across from in art..."

She tilted her head, in mock up of endearment, "Not at all."

"Good. Hey, once that fire pit is built you should come by for smores... Or something."

She grinned back at him. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Smores or something. "

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Are you cool enough to read Chapter 7: How To Flirt?



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