"Ah, there you are, we missed the bus, thanks to you." That's Phillip, my best friend. I told him I would be seeing Mr Glasgow shortly after school.
Phillip is a trouble maker, simply put. His favourite game is football and his favourite video game is car racing, with specialty in wrecking the cars. He was the first pupil to speak to me on my first day at school. And even though he gets me out of trouble with peers, he gets me into some, many times.
"I never thought I would be that long."
"Yes, you also never thought we'll be missing the bus. What were you talking about for that long?"
"My sketch."
"Which one; the one you're about to paint?"
"No, the burnt one."
"Oh, right. The new topic on the block. God Brad! Must everyone in Cathay’s high know about this?"
"He's my art teacher. What's the big deal is he knows? You were the first to know this; my mom still doesn't know."
"What did he say?"
"Confrontation."
"Arri! That's what I'm talking about." He said excitedly. "Now let's go Enemy of the State."
"Slow down racer; let's not make this a priority. I have a painting to finish first. Then we'll look for her, and then we'll confront her."
"No, I will find her and finish the job. You go ahead with the painting."
"But where would you begin your search, it's not easy to find a biwt in Cardiff."
"I'll begin from where you saw her; Roath park right? Good, I'll start from there; by the lake, it could be her favourite spot. You said she was happy feeding swans. "I sighed, shook my head and walked forth. I'm sure he was surprised at my behaviour. "Hey, why are you snitching, I thought you hated her?"
"Let's go get a ride home." I said.
"Can I at least get an Amen on my intended move?"
I said amen and he did his 'arri' thing again, excited on the approval.
We waited another hour for the next bus and finally it came. The few of us waiting all boarded it and headed for home.
"So Mr Glasgow wrote the book, why is he hiding it? I mean, he's a scholar here and people are supposed to learn from him." Philip flipped through the pages of the book.
"I don't know Phil. And I agree he shouldn't hide it. But maybe it’s because of the criticisms he had that probably made him withdrew it."
"He got criticisms on the book? Then it could be whack."
"His thoughts are not whack; I don't think the book would be. I think he could be too subjective, disregarding agreed theories of art to create his own that people would consider not convenient." I scratched my nose, "we are traditionists; most art scholars are."
"Sure thing; sometimes people find it difficult to leave tradition for new things especially if those things have to do with intellect."
I nodded. "I just hope I find a lot of his theories believable. I respect him and won't want anything bad to touch that."
Philip spoke of the weather, and of a car racing game he lost to his brother.
When Phil dove into another topic, a blue Toyota SUV came alongside our bus, about to overtake. Phil was next to the window, engrossed in his gist facing me. But just as the car began to overtake, I got the most unbelievable sight; sitting at the back of the SUV, was the girl that took my sketch.
"Bloody Hell, Phil. It's her."
"Her, who?"
"It's the girl that stole my sketch." I exclaimed.
"What?" He turned to his left and there she was, sitting on the backseat with black headphones on her ears playing video game on the small computer screen at the back of the front seat. "Shit!" He said.
"I swear to God it’s her."
"Hey!" He screamed through the window; no one in their car heard or noticed. He screamed 'hey' several times but to no avail. The car sped away.
"Well, at least we now know which school she is." He smiled at me.
"Yes." I said. "Cathay’s high."
When we got back to our senses, we were greeted by over a dozen pairs of furious looking pairs of eyes pinned menacingly at us. We must have angered them with our little commotion. We smiled at them. They didn't smile back.