I scribbled some more on the thin paper, trying to put life into two dimensional colors. Cyd was gone again. And I hated it because it reminded me of all the people I had lost. I no longer had anyone to fall back on.

So I stood towards the back of the art room, completely silent amidst the chaos around me, and crossed my fingers.

He approached quietly, not saying a word. He didn’t need to.

“So who’s gonna watch you die?” he said.

I smiled. “I saw my ex today..”

“Mike?” He frowned.

“No, silly. Jesus, that was three years ago.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, well, I just thought.. since.. nevermind. What’s his name?”

“I can’t tell you.” We really didn’t know each other. I kept my eyes trained on the colored pencil in my hand, debating wether I should sharpen it. He tapped a marker on the paint covered counter. Art class was alot like life—messy.

“I hate it when people are all private about their relationships,” he complained, “Just spill, Jade.”