Chapter Thirteen
Oliver West
This was one of those moments I really confirmed that fate must have a special hatred for me.
Most times in Mr. Obum's class, I usually sketched flowers or other random things, and he had only checked them out a few times.
So why now? Why today of all days?
I stared up at the ceiling. Ten whole points! I couldn't possibly give those up. It would surely go a long way to cover up my low scores in the other subjects.
Sweat broke out on my face when the girl beside me walked to the front of the class with her work. She held up some basic landscape drawing and mumbled something about "peaceful places" before quickly sitting back down.
Why hadn't I decided on something simply beautiful and basic like that? But no, I had to sketch down my worst enemy. One who hates me to the bone.
A sudden image of me going up there, in front of the whole class, with my drawing of Kieran flashed through my head for the briefest moment.
Oh god!
