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."