FicWad

I didn't know why I felt so warm and happy after that brief chat with my art teacher. Maybe it was because someone was actually paying attention to me, encouraging me and praising my work. At home, I was always the person holding everything together. I could let it all go when I drew. And Mr Way understood that. I thought back to what he had said to me when he'd been studying my hands. "You have to know what it's like to hurt." I guess I knew what that felt like, and Mr Way must do too. I wondered what had happened to him.

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I slipped my key in the lock and turned with my frozen fingers. I closed the door, shutting out the cold wind. As the lock clicked, I stopped.
"Well, quite frankly Susan, you can take your fucking insults and stick them up your ass! Hayley is staying with me, and that's final!"
Dad was on the phone. I crept into the dining room to see him gripping the phone so tightly, his knuckles where white. I could hear mum's disconnected voice from the other end. She sounded and angry as dad was. "You left us, Sue! You left us here and went off with Mr Moneybags, that's not our fault! ....My drinking has nothing to do with it!.... Well you can piss off!" he slammed the phone down, breathing heavily. "....dad? ....dad, are you alright?" I asked nervously. "I'm fine! Leave me alone!" he didn't look at me, he stared out the window at the already dark sky. I jumped and practically ran to my room, closing the door behind me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I had two messages. I opened the first, it was from Ally.
Hey :) Hardly saw you today, where were you at activity! D:
I typed back a quick reply, making up an excuse. For some reason, I didn't want Ally, or anyone for that matter, to know about mine and Mr Way's conversation. I opened the second message and sighed. It was from Dave.
Hi :) Ally gave me your number, hope you don't mind :S
I rolled my eyes. I didn't really mind, but I was mad that Ally had given out my number without asking. And I didn't like Dave. He was alright, but I didn't want a relationship at the moment!
I spend the whole evening shut in my room, drawing and listening to my ipod. I turned the volume up loud to drown out dad's drunken ranting down the phone to his friends. I drew random cartoons and doodles, scribbling down anything that came into my head. Art was definitely my outlet for my emotions, just as Mr Way had said. I nibbled at skin around my fingertips without thinking. God, I was doing exactly as he'd said. This new art teacher has walked into our classroom only a month before and he already knew so much about me, and I still knew so little about him.

Eventually, I got tired of drawing and went to bed. I never heard dad come up. He stayed downstairs all night, no doubt collapsed on the sofa.

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I ran out the school gates in the rain, cursing my own stupidity for forgetting my coat that morning. The cold water beat down hard on my head, making pat pat pat noises on the concrete. I walked quickly around a corner and wiped the raindrops off my face. As I moved my hands away I saw a battered, dark red car infront of me. I stared at the car, all set to run from the potential kidnapper inside. The window rolled down, despite the rain and a cheery voice called out. "Hayley! You walking home?" Mr Way grinned at me. I nodded slowly, ignoring the fact that I was now completely drenched. "Quick, get in, you're getting soaked. I'll take you home."
I thought about the situation. This wasn't weird, he was simply a teacher, helping out a student. Anyone would do that. Finally, I nodded again and climbed into the passenger seat, dumping my wet bag on my lap. "Thank you Mr Way" I said, flicking my wet hair out of my eyes. "I'm sorry, I'll make your seat all wet"
"hey, no worries! It'll dry soon enough" He smiled, taking off the hand brake and pulling onto the road. "So, where do you live Hayley?"
"I live on Eastbrook Avenue. It's quite a way, you can drop me off a few blocks away, I don't mind." I smiled, relaxing into the seat. "I'll take you right to your front gate, I can't let you walk in this weather. So, how's life?" His eyes were focused on the road, but he turned his head to me as he spoke. We made small talk as the rain beat down on the windows of the car. I noticed a pack of cigarettes on the dashboard, and another crumpled packet in the compartment in the driver's door. There was a faint smell of smoke in the car with us, mixed with the smell of his after-shave. We reached my front gate and he stopped the engine outside. My heart sank. For some reason, I didn't want the car journey to end.