Chapter 16

“The warm memories from that time in my life have filtered through a child’s mind and turned into a prism of color,” I continue, feeling my palms start to get sweaty. I can feel the eyes of the Idols on me, especially Tristan and Zayd. The latter has one brow raised, his tattooed fingers tapping a rhythm out on the arm of his seat. The former … he’s got a slight quirk to one edge of his mouth now, like he’s just thought of something horrible to do to me. “Turning the words of that book, and the memories of that time, into a piece of dynamic art was a cathartic experience. I lived my best childhood memories with each and every stroke.”

“That’s what she said,” Harper purrs, and the class erupts with laughter. Mrs. Amberton sighs heavily, but none of the teachers does a damn thing.

Classism holds sway in every corner of the world, I guess. Not even art and academics are safe.

“Thank you,” I say, leaving my piece on the stage and heading back to my seat. Nobody claps f