Rain In My Heart Read Free

class joker, then Leon was the class favourite, the top boy. The One. 
    Suddenly, he looked up.  His gaze caught mine.  I shied away, embarrassed.  In an effort to look busy, I took out of myportfolio and started sketching some ideas for the mural.  My hair kept falling into my eyes, getting in the way.  I’ d spent an hour in the mirror that morning, battling with hair straighteners.  Fifteen inches of thick auburn waves can be pretty wayward, but I had acause.  Earlier that week, I’ d overheard Leon telling Curtis he preferred girls with straight hair.  Naturally, I’ d taken it to heart.
     
    Just as I finished my first sketch, Leon wandered over.  I had to bite my lip to stop from grinning.  He smiled and started siftingthrough my sketchpad, asked if I’ d ever considered designing band logos.
    ‘ Seriously ,’ he said ,‘I’ d love to get someone to do artwork for me, for album covers and promo work and stuff.  Do you know street art ? ’
    ‘ Yeah . ’ 
    A lie.  I did n’ t know anything about street art.
    ‘ Who do you like ? ’
    ‘ Um, Banksy ? ’
    Banksy was the only person I‘ d heard of.
    Leon nodded as he fiddled with one of his piercings.
    ‘ This is a weird way to spend a Saturday, is n’ t it ?’ he said.  ‘ Like, is Miss Nevis a bit mad ? ’
    ‘ No ,’ I said, nervous sparks flying in every direction.  ‘ Sh e’ s nice . ’
    ‘ I mean mad at us , for messing up her room ? ’
    I shrugged.
    ‘ As teachers go, sh e’ s pretty decent.  A bit strict, but...it's good sh e’ s given us this mural to do, isn't it? At least we have a purpose - ’
    ‘ But it was only a clay fight, right?   No big a deal.  I mean, until Curtis got that
    tub of grey gloopy stuff and lobbed it - that bit was quite bad.'
    I winced, remembering the sight of the bucket of clay slip as it flew through the air, splattering all over the drying racks, ruining a stack of coursework.  As soon as it happened I felt awful.  I could n’ t believe I’ d played a part in destroying other peopl e’ s hard work, wrecking the art room - my favourite place in the whole school - just because I was trying to keep up, impress Leon Prentice. 
    ‘ Yo u’ d have come in and done this mural anyway, right ? ’
    His eyes were now fixed to his phone screen, fingers texting.  I could n’ t help wondering who he was texting.  Or maybe it was a status update: just chattin with the grl of my dreams!
                  In my dreams.
    ‘ I can use it for my portfolio ,’ I said.  ‘ As long as i t’ s good . ’
    ‘ I t’ ll be good ,’ he said.  ‘ If yo u’ re in charge . ’
    Oh, god!
    ‘ What about you ?’ I said, determined to keep the conversation going.  ‘ Do you mind being here ? ’
    ‘ Not my usual scene, but it beats busking in the pissing rain . ’
    ‘ You go busking ? ’
    ‘ Sometimes . ’
    Suddenly, Curtis leaped onto Leo n’ s back. He was wearing an African mask, which he must have found among Miss Nevi s’ s still-life props.  He pulled it back, waggled his sunglasses, and made a silly face.  Miss Nevis marched over and snatched the mask off him.  I thought she was about to tell us to stop wasting time, but instead, she looked uncharacteristically flustered.
                  ‘ It's a mystery ,’ she said, shaking her head.  ‘ I ordered twenty tins of paint for this mural.  Rollers, brushes, everythin g … and the whole lot has disappeared, a long with a ter m’ s worth of modelling cla y– and I assure you, tha t’ s a lot of clay.  I don't get it!  Yesterday, my order was piled up outside the classroom door.  Today... gone . ’
                  ‘ Maybe you imagined you had it ?’ said Curtis.
                  ‘ I do n’ t imagine things , ’ said Miss Nevis, shaking her head.  ‘ Sadly, I can only assume i t’ s been stolen.  Either that, or it's sprouted feet and walked out.  I’ m afraid the