"7, 12, 4, 9, 5, 7, 1, 3, 17, 6. Done!"

In record time, Lisa zoomed through her math sheet given to her in class. They were merely a set of simple addition and subtraction problems, embarrassingly easy for anyone of her caliber. There wasn't even any calculation to be done! Single digit mathematics, just a matter of memorization. The results to every possible combination had to be proverbially glued onto her eyes. The only limitations were the speed of her own mind and her fine motor skills. As far as she knew, if she could think it, she could certainly do it!

So, she picked up the sheet as she stood up and marched on over to her teacher who was sitting at her desk, resting a head on her hand while playing on her phone with the other.

"A valiant effort at challenging the human intellect Ms. Parm, though you'll have to try harder to break me," Lisa said as she slid the paper onto her desk.

Hearing this, Ms. Parm rubbed her eyes, shook her head, and dragged the paper right side up so she could see it. She immediately grabbed a red pen from a nearby canister, uncapped it, and wrote a giant 100 on the page before passing it back. "Remind me why you're in grade school again?" she sighed.

"I am of the appropriate age, am I not?" Lisa responded.

"Go back to your seat," Ms. Parm said.

Lisa did so, marching back on to her seat with a smile plastered onto her face. Indeed, that math sheet was ridiculously easy for anyone of her caliber. If there was any hope of her learning anything new in the academics here, then that was but a delusion. However, if there was something she had come to realize over time, elementary school wasn't just about the primitive mathematics or learning basic grammatical structures.

As she arrived at her table, she pulled out a seat and sat herself down, putting her left elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand. To the right of her, there was Darcy Helmendollar, a girl that had endeared herself to Lisa last year. Perhaps there wasn't much to learn academically, but there was much to be experienced. Making friends, having good times, and an understanding of one's own humanity. These were things that could only be learned in grade-school, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Okay kids, time's up!" Ms. Parm announced. "Put your pencils in the baskets and worksheets in the middle of the table!"

The kids did as they were told, and the room was filled with sounds of clattering markers and shuffling papers. Several conversations accompanied those noises, whether they be about a cartoon they saw last night, a new toy they wanted, or whatever else was appropriate for their age.

"That math sheet was hard!" Darcy said as she tossed hers in the middle. "You make it seem so easy!"

For you maybe, Lisa wanted to say. She knew better than that though. "Well, I suppose it's a skill you'll develop over time," she responded.

"That's okay! The next class seems pretty fun!" Darcy chirped.

"What next class?"

"Line up children!" Ms. Parm commanded. "We're going to the art room!"

The art room? Didn't they already do enough of that in here? Last she remembered, they were free to pursue any artistic endeavors in the allocated recreational time slots, be it recess, or break time. Why were they now getting a subject dedicated to that?

"I'm glad you're all excited, but we can't go unless you're all quiet!" Ms. Parm continued.

All the children including Darcy ran up towards the door, where their teacher stood waiting. They lined up into two rows, where they turned towards each other and continued their constant chatter. Reluctantly, Lisa stood up from her seat and slowly paced towards the line as well, finding herself at dead last. While the children ahead whispered to each other, Lisa put a metaphorical distance between herself and the group. Her expression contrasted from the children up ahead, as she squinted, stroked her chin, and found herself lost in deep thought. The door to the front opened, and they marched out, a collection of footsteps audible as they trekked through the hallway.

Based on her past experiences and impressions, Lisa wasn't a fan of art. It was a popular activity amongst the students when given the opportunity, but it was always optional. Other than drawing, there were always more preferable activities, whether they be playing out in the yard or continuing with her in-class scientific studies. Franky, scribbling patterns and making egregiously incoherent interpretations of whatever they were trying to draw wasn't her idea of a productive use of time.

Alas, they finally stopped in line. Lisa couldn't see, but she heard a door open ahead, and the line started moving shortly after, eventually ending up in the room. Inside, there was a teacher waiting for them, wearing an apron and a smile seeping with genuine enthusiasm.

"Hello hello hello!" she greeted the children with open arms. "Welcome to art class! Are you all excited?"

While the rest of the children cheered with excitement, Lisa couldn't help but stare all around. The walls were plastered with all kinds of arts and crafts, whether they be simple drawings or constructions made from popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners, and glitter. There were shelves lined with papier-mâchés, origami, and clay sculptures. There were several easels to the right, accompanied with tubes of glue, paint palettes, and brushes on the racks. To the left were tables, where baskets of markers, colored pencils and crayons lay on top. Suffice it to say, the investment put into this art room was impressive.

"Now, sit yourself down at the table and we can all start!"

The children did as they were told, with several chairs were simultaneously pulled out and kids sitting themselves down around the table. Lisa was quick to seize an opportunity to sit in an empty seat next to Darcy, running up and lightly pushing another one away to do so.

"How are you all doing today?" the teacher asked.

The kids responded with variants of "I'm good" or "Fine", as was expected of that cookie-cutter ice breaker. Not Lisa. She wasn't sure.

"My name is Ms. Ortega, and I'll be your art teacher for the rest of the year!" she said. "Who's excited?"

"Me!" all the kids shouted in unison. All except Lisa.

"That's the spirit!" Ms. Ortega said. "Take a look at the room around you. Look at all these amazing projects!"

The students turned their heads wildly as they took note of what she said.

"These were made by students, just like you!" Ms. Ortega continued. "We're gonna do all kinds of fun projects, maybe one day your work can be up there too!"

What an honor, Lisa thought as she rolled her eyes.

"We don't have anything planned today, but that's okay!" Ms. Ortega said, radiating with passion. "Papers and baskets in the middle, you kids just enjoy yourself and draw to your heart's content!"

Immediately, kids reached towards the middle of the table, with crayons, pencils, and markers all clattering against each other. Ms. Ortega dropped a stack of papers in the middle, and the children wasted no time grabbing for those as well. Soon, just about everyone in the room got to work with whatever creative endeavors they had planned in their minds.

Meanwhile, Lisa maintained her neutral expression, mentally rolling her eyes at what she was about to do. "Should be easy," she muttered to herself. It stands to reason, if they could do it, then she could too. With that in mind, she reached in for the basket as well.

She waded her hands through the numerous utensils within, brushing hands with several other kids while she occasionally gripped handfuls of markers out. There were a lot of them. Some were about as thin as any regular utensil, while others were noticeably thicker. They were all smooth and cylindrical, abandoning the hexagonal form she was used to from the tried-and-true pencil.

At this point, the other children no longer had hands in the basket, and Lisa pulled it closer to herself. She gazed into the basket as she continued rummaging through, never actually taking anything out.

Gosh, there were so many of them. Where to even start?

For the first time, she really noticed the diversity in colors that made up the contents of the basket. Of course there were an assortment of colors, but it was one thing just knowing there were different colors. It was another thing to be presented with a whole myriad of them, and being told to pick one out of so many other possibilities.

Lisa turned her head upwards, surveying the classmates that sat with her at the table. They were already at work, outputting content onto their blank canvases and quickly filling them with all kinds of objects, shapes, patterns, anything at all!

Beads of sweat started forming on Lisa's forehead as she saw these children continue to work. They clearly had a vision, a sense of direction with what they were doing. Just how did they do it? How did these 5-year-olds of average intelligence somehow have the mental capacity to just know what to do? What were they basing their thought processes on? What were they-

"Lisa? Can you pass me the basket?"

Hearing this, she turned to the left where her friend Darcy sat, awaiting a response with a carefree smile.

"Uh, just a moment!" Lisa wiped the sweat from her forehead and returned to rummaging through the box, almost literally scraping the bottom of the barrel for any kind of reason to grasp at. A hint, a helpful observation, hidden insight, a miraculous burst of knowledge!

"Lisa?"

"Okay, fine, gah!" Lisa hissed. She finally took a handful of markers out of the basket and passed it to Darcy, before lining the markers out on top of her still empty paper and organizing them by color. Who know there could be so many hidden constraints associated with an activity intended for children?

She had a selection now, but she wasn't anywhere closer to knowing where to start. So many questions left unanswered! She still didn't know what color to use, nor did she know why she had markers instead of any other utensil, she didn't even have the slightest idea on what to draw! Think, Lisa, think! Why do people draw!?

Lost in thought, a surprising tug on her left shoulder snapped her back into reality. She tensed up and her heart skipped a beat, turning left to the source to see her friend again.

"Look what I made!" Darcy chirped. She held in front of her a picture depicting two of… something. It was near impossible to tell. They looked like a bunch of scribbles and shapes, with any coherence or structure to them being minimal at best.

"What is that?" Lisa raised an eyebrow and pointed at the figure to the left.

"It's a kitty!" Darcy beamed at that.

Lisa squinted and strained her eyes as she further studied the "kitty", as described by her friend. Thinking about it now, it did somewhat resemble a feline figure, but that was with Darcy's assistance and numerous absurd justifications to fit the image. There were two overly large triangles protruding from what she could only assume was the head. Aside from that however, the rest of the drawing was a mystery.

"I see…" Lisa hummed to herself. "Could you maybe describe what this is?" She pointed to the center of the cat, which was littered with scribbles and terribly disorganized lines, while also missing several anatomical features.

"They're whiskers!" Darcy answered.

Again, now that her friend said it was one, Lisa saw the resemblance. Several of those lines did indeed look like whiskers, albeit a bit too close to the center.

"I believe most domesticated cats have far less whiskers than that," Lisa said.

Darcy merely blinked at that.

"Never mind," Lisa dismissed with a wave of her hand. "There are more pressing questions to be asked here. Where are the eyes?"

"Oh?!" Darcy grabbed a marker from the basket and filled in two circles on the face. "Here they are!" she said, holding the picture up again.

The ink of the marker contrasted with the color and texture of the crayons Darcy had used on the picture, and admittedly, it wasn't very pleasing to look at. Lisa opened her mouth to say just that, but closed it quickly and turned her attention back to her still blank canvas. If Darcy's drawing was, ahem, not adequately resembling what was intended, then surely Lisa could do the same!

"Did you see the other thing I drew?" Darcy asked.

Lisa turned left to see her friend still holding the picture out in front of her. This time, she was pointing at the figure on the right side, a combination of scribbles and shapes that were just as indistinguishable as the so-called cat beside it.

"Now what could that possibly be?" Lisa asked. A subtle hint of disdain seeped through in her tone, but some part of her truly wanted to know. The way Darcy formed these images were, suffice to say, intriguing. Perhaps she knew something Lisa was missing…

"It's you!" Darcy said. With that, she put on the proudest grin she had all day.

Lisa raised an eyebrow at that. An interesting choice, if she said so herself. But alas, she had to point out the many failures of her attempt at depicting her. Darcy seemed to have a habit with simply scribbling in parts instead of accurately drawing them. Her drawing of Lisa's head was merely a concentrated scribble in an area, vaguely resembling an upside-down triangle. She definitely remembered the glasses, there were two abnormally large round circles stacked on top of that scribble, albeit with no eyes to accompany them. The rest of the body was more or less colored correctly, albeit with the same low effort scribbles that Lisa had to strain her eyes to make out.

"Hmm…" Lisa hummed to herself. "Could do better if the goal is to preserve a memory of me. Why not a photograph?"

Hearing this, Darcy lowered her drawing, her smile diminishing, and a small frown replacing it. "You don't like it?"

This was a situation Lisa was all too familiar with. It was an attempt at obtaining some kind of approval or confirmation of notions, genuine or otherwise. Past attempts had been made at responding with genuine honesty, and the majority of them ended with hurt feelings and weakened relations.

So instead, she gave the 'correct response', forcing a smile on her face. "Quite the contrary. I appreciate it," she said.

Darcy quickly returned to her regular upbeat demeanor upon hearing those words. "Thanks Lisa!"

"Don't mention it," she responded. Usually a common throwaway phrase, but in this instance, she meant it in the literal sense. So many questions welled up regarding Darcy and her drawing. How did she decide what to draw? Why was Lisa and the cat put into the same picture? What was the process behind drawing those deformed faces, or the incomplete body parts? Why wouldn't she just take a photograph!?

The last one was the most irritating of all. Taking a photograph would have been faster, less time consuming, and a more accurate depiction of what was intended. It just seemed better in every way.

"Say, Darcy, why did you choose to draw me?"

"You're my friend!" She chirped in response.

"Yes, I suppose some sentimentalism is expected," Lisa said.

In that moment, a lightbulb went off in her head. Ahah! Perhaps her friend was onto something. Art was an academic requirement, and it was imperative that she got something down, lest she doom herself for the rest of the year. If drawing redundant pictures of her friend was something Lisa had to do to pass, so be it. Not like it was much different from snoozing through single digit addition problems. She had a plan, now time to set it into motion!

With that, Lisa picked up a brown marker, pushed all the others aside, and uncapped it, ready to 'draw to her heart's content' as her teacher instructed.

So where to start…

Lisa started by drawing a line on the page. She could almost hear the faint scratching sound the marker tip made against the surface. Slowly, she continued, making a loop around and about, eventually forming an oval shape about the size of her fist.

There! Lisa put the marker down as she finished. One part down. That wasn't so bad, was it? So she sat, staring at the shape she made just now and contemplating her next move.

The more she stared however, the deeper her eyebrows furrowed, as the shape became more deformed before her eyes. What was she even drawing? That looked nothing like the persons she was trying to depict. Human heads are never perfectly oval. If that was the case, it would be an extraordinary biological anomaly that demanded studying.

With a sigh, she picked the paper up and crumpled it within her hands, throwing the ball towards the center of the table before pinching her temples together. What a disastrous start! How could she possibly be this much of an embarrassment? Truly a disgrace to her intellectual capacity!

She reached in for another sheet, laying it neatly in front of her before picking up the same brown marker. Think, Lisa, think! Darcy's head was definitely not a perfect oval. So, what was it?

Lisa turned her head left to see her friend working on another drawing, humming a tune to match her expression of pure innocent joy. The shape of her head was hard to discern. It resembled an oval, yes, but that just wouldn't do. What exactly was it? There were so many curves and irregularities, an accurate facsimile would be, simply put, difficult to create.

Darcy's head kept moving too, adding even more constraints than were already there to the drawing process. It wasn't like Lisa could ask her to just stop moving either, who knew how time consuming this task would be? Not to mention, that was just the head. Even if she were to somehow finish drawing that part, there was the rest of the body, and all the complications associated with it. Just how the heck was she supposed to draw this!?

"Lisa, you haven't drawn anything!" a voice said from behind.

Hearing this, Lisa turned her body to see Ms. Ortega, looking downwards a smile.

"Er, right!" she said, shifting in her seat. "A few minor complications, but they'll be resolved in due time." She forced a smile on her face at that.

"It's okay to ask for help Lisa," Ms. Ortega reassured her.

Asking for help!? It was one thing to ask for help in her household. Simple tasks like making PBJ sandwiches, or making the bed, they were tasks someone would help her with out of benevolence. But to do the same in school would be acutely embarrassing. All this time, Lisa was left to her independent studies, considering the material was juvenile compared to the skills she had exhibited. Just what would it mean if she were to stoop down to the level of her peers? What more, just what would it mean if Lisa of all people was the only one having trouble grasping what several others achieved with ease? That was a stain she could never have on her academic record. Completely unacceptable!

"A generous offer, but I'll politely decline." She turned back to her seat and picked up the brown marker again. For a few seconds, she just sat there, holding the marker and ready to draw. Eventually, the presence she felt behind her disappeared, the soft footsteps becoming distant as the figure started circling around the table.

Finally, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Reaching up to her forehead, she wiped off the sweat that she didn't even realize were there again. Truth be told, maintain this formal appearance was proving to be an extraordinarily difficult task. Lisa definitely wasn't calm. It was 9:12 right now, which meant Lisa was approximately one thirds of the way through the class period, and she had nothing to show for it! Not even a face.

She put the marker tip on the paper and started with a line again, turning to note her friend's complexion. There was a certain curvature that was very difficult to replicate, and she had to pay close attention to truly capture it.

A glance back at the paper however, and she immediately crumpled it up again. Absolutely unacceptable! She left her marker tip in one place for too long, concentrating too much ink into a dot and causing a smudge. What more, the curvature was completely wrong. It was extremely difficult to look at Darcy and draw at the same time. Lisa could definitely draw a better representation, she just had to!

This time, she studied Darcy's face for several seconds, intently focused on all the details that were once but an insignificant feature of a whole. With that mental image, she turned back, putting her marker on the page and making a stroke. Immediately as she did so, the image in her mind was now but a fleeting memory, so easily forgotten and flushed out of her mind. What more, curves she drew were still nowhere near what she was supposed to represent. Not even close!

With a groan, Lisa buried her head within her arms. At this rate, it was just looking to be an impossible task. The more time passed, the more her motivation for her work dwindled. She was trapped within the confines of her own inferiority; someone that could instantaneously square five-digit numbers with ease, yet couldn't produce even a single drawing for a 1st grade class. How could she even compare herself to the many great scientific minds out there, if she couldn't jump over a simple hurdle in an elementary class!? Such infuriating irony! Shame on herself!

"What's wrong?"

Lisa turned her head sideways to face her friend once more. There, she saw that Darcy was no longer drawing, instead returning the gaze with genuine concern in her eyes. She was a good person, very caring and a gateway to many new experiences, but alas, she had no stake in this. It wasn't her fault that Lisa was deficient.

So, she turned to face the other direction, away from her friend. "Myself," she muttered.

"What?"

Darcy's drawing was bad, yes. But the fact was, she had a drawing. She had ideas. She acted upon them, had something to submit. What did Lisa have to offer?

"Nothing," she said. "Forget it, I'll be fine."

Oh, how she wished she could forget it all.