They often say that fate plays tricks on you, and I've always thought that was total bullshit, who believes in fate?
Honestly? I don't.
But I keep wondering repeatedly what cursed intervention put a man running in the park, the man I drew, the guy who's my freaking teacher!
Okay, it's not that big of a deal, I guess.
The worst part is, ever since then, I can't stop thinking about him, which is so wrong.
It's also wrong that I've hidden a nude portrait in my room. I think my mom would have a heart attack as soon as she saw it, especially knowing it was a man, even if he is gay, who portrayed me.
"Everly, where are you? I need your attention here," The counselor starts snapping her fingers in front of me, and I snap out of my thoughts.
"I'm sorry," I murmur. "What were you talking abo
