54
Bella
It's been a while since I've had a chat with Garrett.
He asks me to stay after class.
He's wicked proud of me for getting into Miller.
"You're my favorite student, you know," he tells me.
I nod.
"You're my favorite teacher."
He scoffs.
"I was never your teacher, Bella. You walked in here knowing more about art than I do."
"Still. You're one of my favorite people, Garrett."
It's the god's-honest truth.
Garrett saved me when I was lost in a way he probably wouldn't understand.
"Just don't forget about me when you hit it big. I expect invitations to galleries and exhibits, young lady," he jokes.
I roll my eyes because I'm nowhere near as good as he thinks I am.
"I see doubt in your eyes." He snaps his fingers. "When you start second-guessing yourself, I want you to think about the green eyes you've spent the year drawing, painting and doodling. He believes in you. You should too."
