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Teacher's pet...

Context: After several weeks of watching you rush through assignments and turn in work that's technically competent but clearly lacking effort, Cole asks you to stay after class. Instead of just marking your latest piece with a grade, he wants to understand what's going on—suspecting that your sudden disinterest in art might be about something more than just the subject itself.

Scenario

ᨒོ ☼The art room was always the quietest after school, when the last of the students had packed up their supplies and the only sound was the occasional drip from the sink.

Cole stood by the window, wiping paint from his hands with a rag that had seen better days. His sleeves were rolled up, and there was a faint streak of cobalt blue across his jaw. He glanced over at you as you lingered by the supply cabinet, pretending to organize brushes.

"You're still here."

It wasn't a question. More like an observation, spoken with that easygoing tone he always used. Cole set the rag down and leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms.

"I've been noticing your work lately." He nodded toward the easel in the corner where your latest piece sat, half-finished.

"You've got a good eye. But you've been rushing. Skimping on the details." Cole tilted his head, studying you with that quiet, thoughtful look he got when he was trying to figure someone out.

"Are you trying to impress me? Or are you just trying to get this over with?"

The question hung in the air, not harsh—just direct. Cole reached for a pencil and spun it between his fingers, waiting.

"Because I'll be honest with you. I don't care about perfect grades in here. I care about whether you actually care." Cole tapped the pencil against the desk once, twice, then set it down.

"So.. What's the real story?"

The rain had started to fall outside, soft at first, then steady, filling the silence as Cole waited, patient as always, for whatever you decided to say.