Continued from yesterday:
{Ring ring… ring ring…}
Charles sent out a mental ‘feeler’. _Oh *dear*. And it isn’t even nine o'clock…_ He picked up the phone. “Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters. This is Professor Xavier speaking…”
“Ah. Good. I am calling for concern of one of your students… Sara Adrien?”
He was halfway tempted to ask who she’d happened to, *this* time… except that it wouldn’t help, and he already had a fairly good idea. “Ah yes. Sara. She’s needed an emotional outlet beyond her music for quite some time. A means of expressing herself without harm.”
“It is this expression that worries me,” said the teacher. “She has finished a portrait… and it is… it is frightening me.”
The image came through like a bell. Stark. Raw. Brutal. And above everything else - honest. Todd had described it as raw. Xavier felt that it was *flayed*. “Sara does have a rather large number of repressed issues to deal with. It’s only natural she’d express some of them pictorially.”
“My pardon, sir, but you have not *seen* this… it is too much at once. It is… too *naked*.” She didn’t mean that literally. Even though Sara’s image was nude, the pose revealed nothing censorable. The pain in that picture - fresh, raw, and still hurting - was the thing left naked to the eyes of a cruel world. “Does she have counselling?”
“Daily,” reassured Xavier. “We work together every evening on Sara’s… troubles. Alas, not very much can be done about the cause.”
“The cause?”
“Unthinking people,” Xavier said. “People who say and do things to make themselves look good at the expense of others. Popular people with power… that sort of thing.”
“But what are we going to do about this picture?”
“What you do with every other picture you receive, I presume. Collect, grade, exhibit briefly, and then return to the owner.”
“It is already in the principal’s office,” said the teacher. “We cannot ignore what it means.”
Which meant another collision with the authorities. Xavier sighed. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“*Thank* you.”
+
Principal Kelly had an interesting glare for her, that morning assembly. Sara had to wonder what on Earth she’d done to earn it. Certainly, there hadn’t been enough time for the - organic substances… to be discovered. They wouldn’t even begin to smell for at least a handful of days.
Therefore, she returned the glare with a near-classic, _Moi?_ pose and look.
“Yo, he don’t know about the–”
“Shh. He can’t.” Sara whispered, “Poker faces, dear.”
The announcements were the usual fare. This and that activity were moved to here and there. Students wishing to participate in the yearbook had so many weeks to complete their submissions, the following people are requested to go to the office immediately… and Sara heard her name.
She simply sighed. “Be sure thy sins will find thee out,” she muttered
“Geez. Anyone’d think you were prime evil or somethin’.”
“Prime psycho,” said the Pam from art class. “*I* saw her pencils… they’re coming to drag her away for *sure*.”
Her plastic cohort giggled.
“*I* saw the finished work, yo,” said Todd. “It’s a masterpiece.”
The assembled Pams laughed even louder.
“Let them,” soothed Sara. Just the butterfly pressure of her hand on his made him keep his seat. “Empty vessels make the most noise.”
“And *what* is that meant to mean?” said the chief Pam.
“Full of sound and fury… signifying nothing,” Sara quoted[1]. “You may have to look up each word individually, dear.”
_Booyah!_ Todd had to focus hard to keep the grin off his face. “Don’t go there, yo,” he counselled. “They ain’t worth it.”
“Yeah, like we need the opinion of a pair of freaks,” said a Pam. The rest of them burst out laughing.
“Thith from a girl who’s had three nothejobth, a tummy tuck *and* thome theriouth liposuction before coming to Bayville,” said Janine. She smiled sweetly at them from her formerly-ignored place. “I have pictureth. If you want them to thtay away from the photocopier, you’ll shut the fuck up.”
The Pam gave out a little squeak before putting both hands over her mouth.
“Bra-*vo*…” murmured Sara.
“Know the truth, and the truth shall thet you free,” Janine lisped. “And pothibly a lot of others…”
Sara considered this. “Just as long as the mud-slinging can’t escalate, I suppose. It *could* get somewhat dangerous…”
“I have contingenthy plans,” said Janine. “If anything nasty happenth… it *all* cometh out. On every pothible thuspect.”
Todd whistled. “You ever considered work wit’ the CIA? FBI?”
“With *my* gpa? No way. Private invethtigating, though… That lookth promithing.”
“Get yourself a big burly guy for insurance’s sake,” Sara advised. “Nothing says 'keep away’ like a dude with 'love’ and 'hate’ tattooed on his knuckles.”
[1] From Shakespeare, of course.
~~
Sara took in the assembled authorities: Principal Kelly, Mr Kian, Ms D'blaa, Professor Xavier and, propping up a corner, Logan. It was Logan who had the long-suffering expression that said, _I *asked* you not to give me any more ulcers, Tallwater…_
_Professor?_ she thought. _Did I happen to anyone unawares?_
_They’re just concerned,_ soothed the Professor.
“Miss Adrien,” said the Principal. He still bore a bandage from a minor wound she didn’t even remember inflicting. A minor wound caused by her ultimate breakdown. “Once again, we meet in my office.” He picked up a familliar rectangle and pivoted it about on his desk so all could see it. “And this time, it concerns *art*. Tell me, miss Adrien… is there any subject at this school in which you do *not* plan to make trouble?”
Sara only glanced at the picture. She did, after all, know every line as intimately as she knew herself. “I honestly don’t see how a painting could be 'trouble’, sir.”
“The *inspector* is going to see this… this… *psychosis* - next *week*.”
“*Ah*,” said Sara.
“Ah?” quoted Kelly. “*Ah*? All you can say about this is 'ah’? Sixteen-year-old girls should not be insane enough to create works of this callibre! And all you have to say is 'ah’!”
The Professor and Mr Kian performed some synchonized wincing. Ms D'blaa groaned under her breath and rolled her eyes.
“You’re worried that I’ll make the school look bad,” she said. “A teenager with *this* much angst and hurt? It couldn’t possibly happen because of the *environment* you provide…”
_Ease up on the sarcasm,_ coached the Professor.
_I thought I *had*…_ “On the other hand, it *could* be a brilliant example of quality student work, sir. Imagine how *good* you’ll look with -uh- some small variety of prodigy recently discovered amongst the ranks. We’re all terribly *proud* of our new golden girl - poor tortured soul - it’s not as if very *much* can be done about peer pressure anyway… and it’s healthier to vent those repressed emotions onto a canvas than -say- through the barrel of a gun.”
_Sara…_ Xavier warned.
_Relax. I’m already on the list of potentially dangerous crazies,_ she 'said’. _Made the mistake of wearing black on Monday. Ergo, I fit the profile of a homicidal mass-killing maniac._
“Maybe… we shouldn’t mention that last part, m'kay?” said Mr Kian.
“Oh, only as a preventative measure,” breezed Sara. “Creative therapy, as it were. Since nothing can be done about the cause, you’re initiating a bold new plan to alleviate the symptoms, sir.”
Kelly was looking lost. “Cause?” he queried.
Sara lowered her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “Most of those nasty words on that canvas, sir… they’ve been uttered openly by the miriad of my contemporaries. Why else do you think I had that - unfortunate episode?”
Kelly thought about this. The poor man was obviously frazzled. “I… made the mistake of… calling you 'mister Essel’?”
“That was only the trigger event, sir. The metaphorical straw. Some of the rest of it… has been said there. It’s built up over years, sir. And most of those years, you were not responsible for.”
Light dawned for him. She could almost *hear* the man thinking, _Hey, yeah… this isn’t my fault! I’ve only been administrating this school for a month or two, tops. It’s the *other* one who wrecked her. *I* discovered her!_ “Yeesssss…?” he allowed. “Perhaps if I invite some members of the local art gallery to -ah- view this…”
“Before next week,” Sara advised. “It’ll look better on your resume.”
“I am still having concerns,” said Ms D'blaa. “Sara… you feel this way, now? Backed into a corner and hurt by all the things people say about you?”
“I did,” said Sara. “Sometimes, I still do. When this is *shown*… maybe I can get some of my former tormentors to *think*, next time, before similar words spill out of their mouths.”
“Wait. Wait. We can’t show this publically,” said Kelly. “It contains slurs and profanities. Small children could read them…”
“…from a man who donates to a gallery featuring the word 'fuck’ written in feces across a wall…” Sara muttered. Aloud, she said, “Sir, perhaps a compromise. Curtain off my work. Put a disclaimer to one side saying that the work behind the curtain contains material that could be disturbing to some viewers, and that those who investigate and view it do so at their own discretion. The school is not responsible for those who choose to view and are subsequently offended, and by viewing said portrait, they already agree to the terms in the disclaimer.” She smiled indulgantly. “Besides… what *is* Art without controversy?”
_Logan says, 'lay it on thicker, you ain’t reached the ceiling yet’,_ 'said’ the Professor.
_Tell him, 'hardy har har’…_
“It *would* work out the best for the school,” said Xavier. “You fulfil your obligations without unnecessary censorship… and look good whilst doing so. Sara continues with her…”
“Therapy?” Sara provided.
“*Therapy*,” said Xavier, nodding indulgently. “And Bayville High continues on its way with a minimum of - incidents… similar to those in Sara’s permanent record.” _And we will see to it that you do not get bored enough for any - incidents… to happen._
_I’m washing the X-jet aren’t I?_
_Possibly. We’ll see this afternoon._
_You do know that time apart from Todd is the worst part?_
_Yes. That’s why we’ll *see*,_ he 'said’. _Do try not to make any *more* trouble for yourself, today?_
_I’ll persevere._
~