Chapter Text
(Patton POV)
After all the kiddos left, I started cleaning up the classroom. I couldn’t explain how excited I was if I tried. All the students were great! And I was really surprised by all the LGBTQ kiddos I had. It was amazing to start to get to know them all. I was looking through all the signed sketchbooks and putting them away, checking off every student
A few students stood out: Talyn, Joan, and Lux were my only Non Binary students (That were comfortable stating their identity to the class), and while Talyn and Lux had a fun cartoonish 2D art style, Joan was more comfortable with realism, and had chaotic notes around all of their sketches.
Remy Grounds made sketches of bedrooms in different styles, and I made a mental note to ask him how those relate to the project.
Emile Picani was drawing himself in art styles from a bunch of different cartoons; I noticed Steven Universe, Adventure Time, and Avatar: The Last Airbender Styles immediately.
Remus Duke was the only one to cause trouble, but I’m taking the blame for that since I never explicitly said everything had to be family friendly, and I approved the red coloring. It was sad to throw his sketches away though, the skill was absolutely there, and everything was drawn in amazing detail… I just almost wish it wasn’t.
Finally, at the bottom of the pile I saw an unsigned sketchbook. It was almost hard to believe that it was drawn with one pencil by one kid. It looked like it was professionally drawn; it was a gruesome monster with black goop-y stuff dripping from its empty eyes. It looked build-wise by a wolf-bear-horse thingy but with talons instead of its front two feet, and on its back I could see a giant scar, like its wings had been torn off. I tried to remember who drew this, when my mind went back to the boy that had to leave halfway through. Virgil?
I knew when he walked in that he was panicking. Anxiety was something I dealt a lot with as a kid. The world always seemed really overwhelming and hard to understand. It wasn’t until my late teens that I realized I had some sensory issues and had been venting through art.
I put Virgil’s sketchbook on my desk. His name wasn’t on my list, so I would just talk to Principle Sanders about it tomorrow morning, there was no way I was letting this talent go to waste.
(Virgil POV)
I had a panic attack on the way home. About halfway there I stopped skateboarding and just sat on the curb, letting the waves take over everything.
No matter how many tears I cried, the waves were relentless. There was no way to get the feeling out, even involuntary reactions just weren’t cutting deep enough, and all I could do was wait until I had enough control to push it back down again.
I don’t know how long I sat there, crying, watching cars pass. I assumed it was a couple hours, because when I finally got home, my parents had already started.
“This is all your fault! He got it in his head that he can do whatever he wants- You taught him that!” I heard my mom screaming through the front door. “’Sure, Virgil! Doesn’t matter what your mom said, do whatever you want!’ You undermine everything I’ve ever tried to do, and no matter how many chances I give you, you throw it in my face.”
I carefully opened the door, and tried to get in without making any noise.
“Look, I don’t remember ever saying anything like that.” My dad tried.
My mom scoffed. “Of course you don’t remember, I guess it’s not important to you, is it? Well it’s important to me! It affects me, and you don’t even care to fucking remember.”
My dad was staring at the floor, looking as small as a grown man could be. My mother, despite being on the other side of the living room, was clearly towering over him. “I’m sorry, I can talk to him and get everything-“
“Oh, no you won’t. I’ve given you chance after chance, It’s time I stood up for myself and stopped letting you ruin everything. I’m sorry I care about our child where you have proven you don’t want to have anything to do with him.” My mom laughed cynically through tears. “I’ll talk to him, and I guess I have to go to his school tomorrow too, since I have to do everything myself around here.”
I made my way upstairs, hoping to get to my room before my dad realizes the circles she ran him in and grabs a drink.
My mother was silently glaring at everything the whole drive to school. I was staring out the window of the car, just hoping that if I didn’t start a conversation then I could avoid screaming and crying. And I wish that was an exaggeration. I knew anything could push her off the edge, even staying quiet for too long, but I’d rather push my luck than start something I didn’t want to finish.
We pulled up next to the curb and my mom got out and started walking to the doors without a word or a glance in my direction. I followed her, lagging behind a bit as the other students started showing up as well.
We made our way to Principal Sanders’ office, but my mom stopped before opening the door.
She finally looked down at me, and spoke with quiet intensity. “Virgil, we are going in, sitting down, and I don’t want to hear a. Single. Word. Out of your smartass mouth, okay?” she said, landing a knot in my throat as I just tried to stay calm without showing that I was struggling to stay calm. “I’m going to attempt to clean up your stupid mess, and we will talk about what you need to do to make it up to me when you get home, understood?”
I nodded, and she opened the door to the office, sending me one last warning glance to remind me that she didn’t want to be here.
(Patton POV)
I finished setting up my classroom for my second day, and with a bit of time left to spare, I took a few pictures of some of the most impressive sketches from yesterday and went straight on over to Principal Thomas’ office, and maybe convince him to sent a few more paintbrushes our way for next months plans.
When I got there, I could hear a kind voice I didn’t recognize. And I would never condone eavesdropping of any kind, especially in a professional setting… but I did hear a few things through the door, and I definitely didn’t want to interrupt, so I waited.
“Thank you so much for paying so much attention, I’m so sorry Virgil caused so much trouble, but rest assured, my son will work his very hardest to improve. And I’ll be helping him every step of the way.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” Principal Thomas said. “I hope you both have an amazing rest of your days, and Virgil, my doors open if you ever need anything. Mrs. Storm, I don’t doubt your abilities in the slightest, but if you ever reconsider, I have a great tutor just waiting for a chance to help out.”
“That’s great to know, but my son prefers figuring things out by himself, I just know he’ll feel much better about his work if he just puts his mind to it.” Mrs. Storm stated firmly.
And just like that, the door opened and a middle aged woman looking far more annoyed than her voice gave away through the door walked into the hall, not noticing me as she practically dragged her son out of the office by his wrist.
He stared at the ground and she pulled him closer to her, and said some not very child-friendly words when describing him.
She squeezed his wrist tighter. “What the hell was that look you gave me? I’m trying to help you!” she spat quietly. “You think I want to be here? I would much rather be at work than digging you out of your own -CENSORED- . Are you even hearing me?”
Virgil nodded, still staring at the floor. “I am. I’m sorry.”
His mother scoffed. “Yeah right, I’m sure you are.”
As Mrs. Storm started digging her nails into his wrists, staring him down, I got over my shock and realized I had to step in.
I stepped up to them. “Heya, Virgil!” I said, thinking of the next thing to say as I watched his mom drop his wrist. “How are you this morning? Everything go alright?” I nodded towards the office door.
Virgil only stared back at me, so I shifted my attention to his mother, putting my hand out to shake hers. “My name is Patton Heart, I’m the new art teacher, and I have to say, your son is amazingly talented! I would not be surprised if he came from a long line of professionals.” I smiled.
She smiled back. “Oh really? I didn’t even know he had any artistic pull. That does explain a few things now that I think about it. Say, I don’t remember Virgil having any art classes?” she looked accusingly at Virgil.
“Oh, he wasn’t on my roster. He popped in for a few moments yesterday, I think he got a little lost, but never mind that. He’s more than welcome to take more classes if he wants.” I reply, and then I looked at my watch. “Well, I should really talk to Principal Sanders now; classes should start here in a few minutes. I hope you have great days, the both of you!” I said, and watched Mrs. Storm nod and walk to what I can only assume is Virgil’s first period class, once again grabbing him by the wrist. Virgil was staring back at me as he left, a new light in his eyes that was painfully familiar.
I entered the office and took a second to go over what I had originally planned to say, before I sat down with a smile on my face, ready to pitch my plans, and see what funds were available.