Jasmine glanced up from her sketchbook, the drawing of a train traveling through sunny open fields fading from her sight. The clock above the classroom door read three twenty-five, leaving only five minutes until class was dismissed. A few empty seats around her shielding her from the whispers and judgmental glances that followed her everywhere. Her eyes were drawn to the windows, the stormy sky outside appeared to be shouting at her, the oppressive weight of the clouds feeling like the weight she carried around. A couple students laughed, pulling Jasmine’s attention towards them. One of them gave her a snide look before going back to their drawing. Only a couple more months, then I graduate, Jasmine thought, putting her pencil to paper again.

“Alright, it’s three-thirty, go ahead and pack up your things. Don’t forget, your logo assignment and acrylic paintings are due next week. Enjoy your weekend, see you all on Monday.” Ms. Jennings stated from her maple wood desk. Jasmine began placing her drawing pencils into their case. After saving up for a year, she was determined not to misplace any of the pencils from the set. She closed and latched the thin metal case, before closing her sketchbook, stacking it on top. As she slid them into her backpack, a few of the students walked past her.

“Let’s not get too drunk this weekend. Unlike some people, we can’t afford to get wasted all the time.” Jasmine’s heart dropped to her stomach at the words, while the other students laughed. It’s always the same, everyone will always view her in the same way. None of them understood how it felt to be in her shoes. In a swift aggressive movement, her backpack zipped closed and she quickly swung it on her back as she stood up. She pulled her ponytail out from underneath the backpack as she turned to the door.

“Jasmine, one moment. I want to talk to you before you leave.” Ms. Jennings stepped around her desk.

“Is there an issue?” Jasmine’s response was quick, and much to her surprise laced with frustration.

“Not necessarily.” her smile seemed a little forced, and Jasmine could hear the slight concern in her voice. Jasmine’s head dropped down slightly as she walked towards her. “Your artwork has always been exceptional, but I’ve noticed your technique has slipped lately on the last few assignments. Is everything alright at home?”

Jasmine’s pulse quickened, a rush of anger and surprise filling her. What kind of question is that? Everyone knows my father! With a fake smile, Jasmine’s head tilted to the side, “Nothing out of the ordinary. Although, I did pick up more hours at work. So I have less time for my assignments, that could be the reason. I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t lie to Ms. Jennings, she always knows when someone lies due to her ability. She was a human lie detector after all. But Jasmine learned at the beginning of the semester, redirection, wording, and not answering straightforwardly will usually bypass the ability. Ms. Jennings’ expression became one of curiosity. “I’ve also noticed your artwork has taken a turn towards a dark atmosphere, which hasn’t been your style until recently.”

Shit! “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, I’ve been doing some extra studying outside of my classes. There were several chapters on trauma and the effects it has on the psyche and a person’s behavior. I guess the topic was in my subconscious as I was working on my other assignments.” Jasmine gave her a small giggle, trying to achieve a facade that it was a mistake and out of her control. Her fingers drummed against her thigh, as loudly as her heartbeat in her ears. Her arms were crossed in front of her, she wore an expression conveying that she didn’t believe Jasmine’s explanation.

“Trauma and how it affects the psyche, huh? Sounds like you’re also studying psychology,” she sat down in her chair, gesturing at the seat across from her, inviting Jasmine to sit down also. Jasmine quickly sat down, her body reacting out of habit before her mind could catch up. She knew there was no real urgency, but old instincts were hard to shake. “So, tell me, Jasmine. What are your goals in life? You graduate in a couple months, what are your plans after that?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Jasmine stiffened in her seat, as Ms. Jennings leaned back in hers. Jasmine’s throat tightened as she swallowed. People barely talk to her, and due to her father’s reputation everyone thinks she will follow his footsteps. She pulled on the edge of her jacket sleeve, “I’m already applying to jobs in other cities. I want to move where no one knows who I am or my father.”

Ms. Jennings’ eyes looked towards the ceiling, a pen tapping against her knee. Jasmine could see the gears turning in her head, but the silence made her uncomfortable. She rubbed her hands together, pressing her thumbs into her palms and her knee bouncing up and down. After a long minute, Ms. Jennings sat up straight, looking at Jasmine. “That’s all? You just want to move?”

Jasmine shook her head. “No! I’m studying psychology with a focus in trauma. I want to help people work through past traumas, while using art as a way to express things buried deep within the subconscious.”

A prideful smile came to Ms. Jennings’ face, which Jasmine found confusing. It was unsettling to see someone look at her with that look. “Sounds like you have a great plan, and you’re determined and passionate about your goal. I have my own reasons, but I would hope you change your mind about moving to follow your goal…”

“What?! Why?!” Jasmine lurched forward in her seat. “Everyone here knows me and my father, I could barely find a part-time job because of it! I won’t be able to accomplish my goals here!”

Ms. Jennings held her hand up. “If you let me finish, I could have explained.” she sighed, her elbows resting on top of her desk, her chin in her hands. “There are plenty of people in this city who could use the help of someone like you, especially someone like you. If you want, I have some associates here that I could recommend you to, putting in a good word for you.”

Jasmine stared at her almost as if she was looking at Medusa. Her entire body felt completely still. In an instant her hands were pressed between her legs as she shook her head ferociously. “No, no, no. I can’t do that. My plan is to move away from here and never look back. Thank you, but no thanks.” She straightened herself, seeing the time out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, crap! I have to get going. I’m going to be late!”

She bolted towards the door, and as she left she heard Ms. Jennings call out behind her, “If you change your mind, you know where I am.”

Jasmine rushed through the campus, doing her best to keep her jacket hood up and her head down. She was still reeling from Ms. Jennings’ offer, there’s no way anyone would recommend her for a job. Even if someone did hire her, she would just be a liability, unable to get clients because everyone knows her. Ms. Jennings was just dangling a carrot in front of her, knowing full well that she was going to pull it away at the last second. And if everything actually did work out, she would still be here, around him. No, she can’t accept the offer, her only choice was to leave this city.

Lightning cracked in the sky, rolling thunder followed as raindrops started to hit her hood. She would be fine, the store was only a few blocks away. Her only hope was that her manager would overlook her being late. He probably would since she was only late because of a teacher. The rain started to come down harder, soaking her jacket and weighing her down. Slowing down, she looked at her surroundings. It was the same view as always; a bunch of shops lining the street, cars traveling in both directions, and the looks of pity towards her from people standing by. Everywhere she went, she was alone, surrounded by people who looked down on her and her father. She hated it, all of it. She hasn’t done anything to deserve the comments, the looks of disgust or pity, but she had to live with all of it. These next few months couldn’t pass by fast enough.

Turning the corner, she didn’t see the man before she ran into him. She stumbled forward, but he caught her. “I’m so sorry,” she quickly moved out of his grasp, her skin burning a bit where his hands had been. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s alright, miss. Don’t worry about it.” His voice was deep and calm. She looked up at him as a crack of lightning struck behind her, lighting up the face beneath his hoodie. Small tufts of blonde hair peaked out from the hood, brown eyes staring down at her as he stood about five inches taller than her. The light faded as her eyes landed on a tattoo on his neck, it appeared to be a crown and sword, but she couldn’t make out all the details in the limited light.

“I have to go, I’m already late for work.” She stepped around him, and continued walking away from him. It was another five minutes before she walked into Munchie’s Market, heading straight to the back to the employee lockers. She shoved her backpack in, throwing on her employee vest, before punching in for her shift.