Snow’s Point of View:

I kept my head down as I settled into the back corner of the classroom, pulling my earbuds out but keeping the music low enough to keep me grounded.

The chatter around me was overwhelming. Everyone seemed to know someone, laughing and catching up like old friends. Meanwhile, I felt like I was standing on the outside, looking in.

I glanced at my schedule again, trying to focus. The first class was something called Intro to Creative Concepts. The name sounded promising, but I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. As I waited for the instructor to arrive, I noticed someone sitting in the row ahead of me.

She was tall with short curly hair dyed a bright shade of purple. Her outfit was bold—oversized overalls paired with chunky boots—and she carried herself with an easy confidence that I couldn’t help but envy.

She caught me staring and turned around with a friendly grin. “First day?”

I blinked, startled. “Uh, yeah. Is it that obvious?”

She laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. “A little. Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. I’m Nia.” She held out a hand, her bracelets jingling softly.

“Snow,” I said, shaking her hand, grateful for her easygoing vibe.

“Well, Snow, welcome to the jungle,” Nia said with a wink. “This class is actually pretty chill. The professor’s a bit eccentric, but you’ll get used to it.”

I smiled, feeling a tiny bit of the tension in my chest ease. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“Art classes are fun,” Nia said, leaning back in her seat. “But don’t let the ‘chill’ vibe fool you—there’s a lot of work. Hope you’re ready to get your hands dirty.”

I nodded, trying to absorb her words. As intimidating as she seemed at first, I could tell Nia wasn’t the type to judge or make me feel out of place. That made me relax a little.

Before I could say anything else, the door swung open, and a tall man with wild, graying hair and thick glasses strode in. He carried a large bag slung over one shoulder and set it down on the desk with a loud thud.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” he called, clapping his hands together. “Welcome to Intro to Creative Concepts. I’m Professor West. You’ll be stuck with me for the next twelve weeks, so let’s make it interesting.”

His energy was infectious, and the room quieted as he launched into a fast-paced introduction to the course. He talked about pushing boundaries, exploring our inner creativity, and finding new ways to express ourselves.

“Art isn’t just about what you create,” he said, pacing the front of the room. “It’s about how you see the world, how you interpret it, and how you make others see it. Your perspective is your power.”

I found myself leaning forward, drawn in by his passion. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the class went on, Professor West handed out a short assignment: draw something that represented our mood today. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Art wasn’t something I’d done much of, and I wasn’t confident in my skills.

“Don’t overthink it,” Nia said, glancing at me as she sketched confidently in her notebook. “Just go with whatever comes to mind.”

I nodded, picking up a pencil and letting my hand move. The result wasn’t great—just a simple drawing of a girl standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. But when I looked at it, I realized it was exactly how I felt.

When class ended, I gathered my things and glanced at Nia. She smiled, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Hey, if you want to grab lunch or something, let me know. First days are always easier with a buddy.”

“Thanks,” I said, genuinely grateful. “I might take you up on that.”

As I stepped out into the hallway, my phone buzzed with a message from Zino: We’re outside when you’re done. No rush.

I tucked my phone away and looked around at the crowded halls. It was still overwhelming, but I felt a little lighter. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad. Maybe, with time, I could find my place here.