The day after the panic attack incident, I pressed my back against the door and breathed a sigh of relief, finally the bell rescued me from Math class and allowed me to run into the art rooms and paint for the lunch hour. I walked over to my usual station and set down my bag, simultaneously extracting my headphones and plugging them into the top of my phone. Before lifting a paint brush to the page, pinned on the easel in front of me i quickly tipped my head upside down and scooped my dark ginger hair into a hap-hazard bun. Finally, i could begin. I placed my headphones over my ears, eager for the music to flood my thoughts, lifted the brush to the page and made small strokes, occasionally pausing to grab a blending sponge or to dip my brush in a new colour.
It didn't feel like long, in fact it felt like barely five minutes had passed when the bell rang, signalling the end of my brief heaven and the beginning of History with Mr Yukimura. New this year, he seemed okay, his daughter, Kira as she was so embarrassingly identified as in the first lesson, was a pretty girl with silky black hair and a unique style. She seemed nice, not that i'd talked to her. Slipping out of the room i quickly made my way to my locker, lifting one paint covered hand (a common occurrence) to turn the lock to the correct numbers. The lock didn't budge so, sighing and muttering several colourful words, i tried again, this time successful. I quickly pulled my belongings out and slammed it shut, heading quickly across the hall to the classroom we were in. I slipped into a seat, brushing my hair over one shoulder and sitting down. I glanced up as a the the boy from yesterday, Stiles, and the boy from class who i had determined to be Scott McCall, entered the room. Stiles walked past me, giving me a small smile on his way, and slipped into the seat behind me while Scott sat next to him.
20 minutes into class and i had already abandoned note taking, having already read the section of the textbook we were working on, and doodled a small but detailed drawing of a tree into the margin of my page. I heard shuffling behind me, someone readjusting in their seat too many times, and turned my head, glancing over my shoulder to see what Stiles was doing. He glanced at Scott, sharing an awkward head tilt before he looked back at me, eyes widening slightly before he gave me a tight smile. Not thirty seconds after i turned back to the front i felt a light tap on my shoulder, so i turned back. Stiles was leaned over his desk, elbows positioned to stretch closer to me. I shot him a small smile and lifted my eyebrows in question. He leaned closer still, if that was even possible and spoke in an airy whisper. "Hey ... are you okay?" My smile fell "I mean after yesterday?
"Yeah" i mumbled "It's fine, thanks"
"That... it didn't seem fine" he whisper yelled, i shrugged
"Look i really appreciate your help but it happens all the time okay? i'm used to it, and i really don't want to talk about it"
"Bu-" I gave him a pleading look, almost begging him to drop it, and, with a scowl, he did. I moved my body back around to face the front and began to take notes furiously, rewriting content i had already covered in a desperate attempt to distract myself from the eyes i knew were on the back of my head.
---
I glanced around quickly as i got out of my brother's car, having borrowed it for the day, my boots making noise on the concrete of the Sheriff Station carpark. I made my way quickly to the door, pausing as i reached out to the handle. I shook off the nervousness that was somehow making its way into the pit of my stomach and entered.
There was no-one visible inside so i sat carefully in the chairs near the door to wait. A minute later the door swung open and a man stepped in, he was about the same age as my dad, mid to late forties?, and looked oddly familiar. Standing quickly i rushed in front of him, trying to get his attention before he left through the door, having not seen her when he entered. "Excuse me!" He shook his head in surprise of my recent appearance
"Yes? sorry i didn't see you, is everything okay?" He seemed genuinely interested and polite, yet there was a coldness behind it that made me crease my forehead.
"Sorry i'm look-" Suddenly the door flew open and a very puffed Stiles ran in, giving me a surprised look. "-ing for my brother" i finished, a little quieter "Deputy Parrish? is he here tonight?" He shook his head,
"Sorry, all out because of the blackout" he said with a shrug, then turned to Stiles, frowning heavily. I took that as my cue to leave. I went to push the door when a voice stopped me.
"Wait, Freya can you wait for me outside? i want to talk to you!" Stiles called with a pleading glance. I didn't need to, i could leave... but he helped me yesterday and seemed like a nice guy. I nodded to him, earning a smile, and stepped outside.
---
A few minutes later he came out, looking both pissed and proud at the same time if that's even possible. I smiled as he walked the few steps to where i stood. "You good?" i asked, referring to the conversation the two of them must of had moments ago. He nodded
"Yeah, just had to give that asshole a piece of my mind" I grinned
"So... what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked,
"Stiles" someone whispered loudly from around the corner "Come on!" I glanced around to see Scott standing with Kira. He raised his hand to say hello when he saw me. I turned back to face Stiles. He looked thoughtful for a moment then his face changed like he'd made a decision
"Forget, it can wait" he said "Do you have plans for tonight?" I widened my eyes
"Are you asking me out?" I said quickly, he too widened his eyes considerably before shaking his head quickly
"No No No!" He said. I sighed in relief, relaxing "I was just wondering... do you want to go to a party? like as friends. Scott and Kira are going too" I thought for a moment. weighing my options. Hmm, Social Anxiety vs. a nice guy who wants to be my friend. Fuck it. I'll take the risk
"Sure, sounds fun!" i said, trying to sound excited but forcing a smile. He grinned, clearly not expecting that answer.
YOU ARE READING
Canvas (Stilinski - 1)
Fanfiction"Stop moving you idiot" I exclaimed loudly "i'm trying to get the tone right and you're screwing up the shadows!" ----- Freya didn't care about boys. She didn't care about her hair or her clothes. She cared about art; the way that a brush layere...
