"Now, I know we are all troubled at the disappearance of Rachel Amber. She was an excellent pupil and friend, no doubt. She will be missed by us all. But we must do our best to put it behind us. She would want it that way."
Mark Jefferson bowed his head in a reverent display of empathy. Then, in a very natural looking moment, he took a deep breath and began the class.
"Max, seeing as you are our new student, I was hoping you could say a few things about yourself." He sat casually on the side of a empty desk. "You know .. what you like, hobbies, aspirations, etcetera. You get it."
Max looked around insecurely, suddenly the target of everyone's eye line. "I .. I like taking pictures."
Mark smiled softly. "Yes, I believe everyone in this room shares that quality. But no, I mean what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what makes you - you. Something small, unique that makes you different."
Max struggled to find the words. "I," she swallowed.
"I know it's difficult, but it would really enlighten us to the 'mystery' that is Maxine Caulfield. There's always something Ms. Caulfield. Always."
"I .. honestly don't know. I'm pretty normal."
"I'll say." Jeered Victoria in an undisguised mutter.
Mark Jefferson ignored it. He was focused on Max. "No one is truly normal, Max." He told her. "It is by that belief only that we are limited."
"That's .. pretty wise." Max pulled at her sleeves. "But I don't think there's anything - other then photo's, that i'm really interested in."
He nodded. "I never said there was. But never limit yourself to one thing. You can do two things at the very least - with contrite perfection. Don't mind me and my advice, however. I'm just stating that you have options in life."
She gave a small smile. "I appreciate that."
"Anytime. I can already tell you're going to be a unique student."
Max was curious. "Why do you think that?"
"Because, Maxine, you didn't try to build yourself up when you had the opportunity. You didn't even try to impress the new teacher. That's an admirable quality. In these days, that's practically a virtue."
Rachel was dead. It had been two days. One day since she was declared missing. A shame because of what exactly she had meant to everyone, even the darkest of people. Mr. Jefferson was, of course, teaching a class, when the worst possible thing happened because of this. A phone call.
Mark made a coerced face of disdain, and switched his phone on silent before slipping it back into his suit. He knew who it was.
"I'm sorry about that." He shook his head. "I'm not setting a very good example for cellphone rules, it seems. Victoria, you were saying?"
Victoria scooted up to the edge of her chair and leaned on her fist before responding. Shamelessly flirtatious, she answered, "I believe I was referring to flash .. exposure and the effects it can have."
"Yes, and what about it captures you?" He crossed his arms smoothly.
"It doesn't use the background to hide. Flaws, imperfections, are more potent. It's plain, yet complex. It teaches about the obvious. You only have to look."
"That's an interesting point. I can see why you would get that impression on first sight. You think like an artist, I've always admired that about you."
Victoria smiled in an attempt to appear humble.
"But, it's not entirely about appearance alone. It's also about the feeling. Many talented artists forget that. What is the person in the photo saying, what are they trying to convey. Emotion translates into appearance, but not appearance alone. It makes you feel something. After all, that is the point of art."
Mr. Jefferson let a moment go by to let that sink in.
"Max, what's your take on it?"
Max was startled to hear her name so abruptly and began to contemplate an answer. "I believe .. it's about capturing a pure expression."
He raised his eyebrows. "Precisely. And why exactly do we need to do that?" He shrugged. "In fact, why take photos at all?"
"To .. capture a moment in time. A moment that can't be replicated or repeated so we keep taking pictures hoping to find the meanings behind it and therefore, find a meaning for ourselves."
He took a moment to reflect and found himself smiling. "Surprisingly deep, Ms. Caulfield."
Max lowered her head.
Victoria clenched her jaw and raised her hand.
Mark pointed. "Yes."
"What is your personal opinion about art as a whole?" She gave Max a non-discreet look, which Mr. Jefferson chose to ignore.
"I can't say I can express myself as well as Max just did," He expressed humbly. "But art, to me, is really just a contrast. A contrast of opinions, colors, good, evil. It's about black and white, and the gray that lives in between."
Victoria thought on this. "That's quite profound."
"Well, thank you." He looked at his watch. "Alright, everyone. Class dismissed."
Students shuffled out and Mr. Jefferson went to his desk. He began the process of grading, posture upright. Composure was everything.
