I live the most normal, boring life possible. Seriously, I mean, I'm shy. I talk, but only to people I'm close to. I'm not into the whole party scene and neither is my best friend and partner in crime, Sam Tate. I also am know for always reading a book. Whenever I'm at school, I never not have a book handy with me. The only non boring thing about me is I can sing. I'm really into music. I can even play the piano. I learned to play when I was nine. I took lessons from a local music teacher at the middle school when they were offering them. There's nothing about me that stands out to boys either. I haven't even had a boyfriend and I'm turning seventeen this Friday. How many people do you know who is seventeen who hasn't had a boyfriend? Probably slim to none.

Plus my looks are boring too if that's even possible, my mom is much prettier than I am. My mom has long dark red hair, hazel eyes, she's tall, and is tanner than me, but still on the pale side. She's pretty pale, I'm vampire pale. I have a little below the shoulder straight dark brown hair, emerald green eyes, and I'm 5'3. Yeah, I'm that short. Well, my saying is short is where the party's at. That's what short people say to make them feel better about their height. Because clearly I'm not where the party's at. I did mention I'm boring.

Friday is in six days and before then I vow that I am going to a club with Sam and I will do something normal teenagers do for fun. But the only club I can think of that doesn't have a strict age limit is Pandemonium. Like I'll get in there, unless I dress in a really short skirt or dress. I'll wear a dress or a skirt, but not super short. Well, I've got nothing going on tomorrow and it is summer. Shouldn't be too crowded on a Monday. My mom won't care if I go, but my dad on the other hand will.

My dad's not super strict with me, because I've never gotten into trouble before, but he gave me a strict curfew of eight. It's super ridiculous, but I've always respected that one rule and he's a pretty awesome dad too. He is The Sheriff for his police department, and he probably saw some upsetting, gruesome stuff to be giving me this curfew.

I'll just have to tell him I'm staying at Sam's house tomorrow night. How much trouble can I get in on the one night I actually decide to go out?

I just have to get through my summer art class tomorrow that my dad sprung for and then I'll get ready here and me and Sam will head out to the club around ten. Boy, seventeen year old me is starting to sound more rebellious than sixteen year old me ever was. Seventeen year old me seems to be shining through when it comes to me actually wanting to go to a club.

I walk downstairs to the kitchen and grab a piece of the toast my mom leaves out for me every morning before she goes to work at the hospital because she leaves a few minutes before I do. I have my art class everyday except Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays because the teacher usually travels during those days. It's a weird schedule, I know, but I respect it and never miss a class. They're so important to me because I love art and sometimes I draw these weird symbols and I want to bring them to class today and show her some of them to see if she knows what they are or can interpret them for me.

I took a huge bite of my toast and walked out the door to get a move on to my art class. It's about two blocks over from here and I'm running two minutes late. Luckily I'm in jean shorts and a blue and white striped t-shirt. So, it will be easy to run in it. I've always been a pretty fast runner too. I should be to class in two minutes.

I took my brown leather shoulder bag and tightened it so none of my drawings or art supplies would fall out during my early morning sprint. I took off at a sprint without starting with an easy jog and my bones didn't ache or anything even though I wasn't used to running.

I made my way to the classroom door a minute later and wasn't even sweaty or out of breathe. Lungs of steel right here. Not guns of steel, but lungs of steel. "Hi, Ms. Welch, sorry I'm late, but my alarm didn't go off on time today." I said as I headed towards my seat in the class of six people. Her luscious dark brown hair was down and in loose curls. "No need to apologize, Beth, but you're up today to show us your drawings." That's one thing that I love about this class, we have show and tell. Remember that time when you were only five and you brought in an object for show and tell and it was you time? I sure do and if you think it's only for when you're a kid, you obviously don't know Ms. Welch. She's awesome sauce. Best teacher I've ever had. She's only twenty-four and she has a really interesting perspective on art in general.

She has us do show and tell every class at the beginning of the hourly session to have people interpret your art and to have people comment on it and what they like about it and what could be changed in it. This is my first show and tell since I started this class last Saturday. At least I'm not the type of shy that freezes when she talks to people and has stage fright. I never got fear. I don't even know if I have fear, maybe I do, I mean everyone does, but I have no idea what I'm afraid of. Hopefully I never find out. Geez, I hope I didn't just jinx that.

"Okay," I began. "I don't really know how to interpret these drawings, but I thought maybe hearing your ideas and your perspective on them maybe you could help me." Ms. Welch watched me with her blue eyes as I opened my bag to reveal my drawings. Some in only black charcoal pencils, and others in really vivid colors. Ms. Welch looked at them and I could've sworn I heard her gasp. It was slight and she covered it up well. Either that or i'm just hearing things and my mind is once again playing tricks on me.

Ms. Welch reached for her phone and looked at it as if she just received a text. "Okay, everyone, sorry, but class is dismissed. My cousin just texted me and said a family matter just came up." I gathered up my drawings and was about to put them back in my bag when Ms. Welch told me to stop. "I'd like to hold onto those to look at them, if you don't mind." It's funny, it didn't sound like a question to me. I nodded. "Great, thanks. I'll see you on Saturday." I nodded and Ms. Welch smiled. Her lipstick was red and her makeup was perfect. She was even in this super pretty gray dress. She could be a model.

I clicked the button on my bag and made it out of that very short lasting class. What the heck was that about anyways? Were my drawing's that bad, because yesterday when I was drawing a landscape picture of a lake, she said it was really pretty and good. Was that a lie or is something else going on? Another thing some people do in the class is photography and they share those pictures and she teaches photography for the next hour. Should I switch classes?