Chapter 33

The semester ended in approximately four weeks. Which meant he had less than four weeks to get all this done because had a fucking showcase to get ready for his final. That should’ve been an exciting thing. Belly bubbling with bouncing butterflies and nail-biting excitement.

Only there was nothing exciting about it. Colin even lost track of the last time he had fun with the art. Three-quarters of his final grade’s worth of not-fun.

He grabbed the sketch he’d spent the past thirty minutes on and tore it up. First in half, then those halves in half, them in half, once more, and flung them all up over his head so that a snowfall of his ripped-apart art rained down around him. Three days now he’d been cooped up inside, escaping only for coffee. For those early morning and late-night caffeine-fueled inspiration runs.