Poetic Devices of Despair Chapter Three By Autumn Fields

A/N: This is dedicated to PinkyCD, cause it's her fault I'm even writing more! Sorry for the lack of Jeff/Serena fluff in this chapter, I promise there will be more in the next chapter!

"Dad, I'm home!" Jeff yelled, taking the keys out of the front door and tossing his back pack onto the foyer floor. He gazed around the spacious living room, not finding any sign of intelligent life. He sighed and walked to the staircase, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his dad wasn't hiding behind him. He trudged up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. Slamming the door shut behind him, he fell back onto his black bedspreads and stared up at the white ceiling.
His mind began searching his memories, recalling everything that had happened that day. He remembered the poem and drawing of the rose of Serena's. It was beautiful, shaded perfectly, each petal something brilliant. He thought that Serena might even be a match for him in the art department.
Jeff had always been the best artist in his classes. His teachers adored him, his classmates admired him, and he had all kinds of colleges and universities offering him scholarships and awards left and right. Of these colleges, he had decided upon one certain prestigious art school in New York City. He was a sophomore, but was completely ready to get out of the small town of Lake Elsinore in which he lived. Two years seemed like so long to wait. He had nothing for him there. Nothing at all.
He sighed, recalling Serena's face. She really was a work of art; beautiful, in every meaning of the word. And she was quite smart, as well, he had found. She was in his advanced English class, and was giving him a run for his money in there too. They had made it sort of an unspoken battle to be the top of their class, and their teacher, Miss Sims, found it quite amusing.
He let a large smile cross his face when he thought of the "argument" they had had in second period that day. They were debating the meaning behind War and Peace, and Serena and he had spent the better half of the class trying to bring the other to fault. And it wasn't the first time this had happened, either. They seemed to spend a lot of time making up reasons to fight with each other. Despite what the rest of the class thought, however, Jeff enjoyed it very much.
Constantly they would bicker and whisper vile things to one another, trying to make the other one jealous, or mad, or sometimes just to make them laugh. Even when he was trying to achieve the former, if Serena burst out laughing because of something he said, it made him smile. And it gave him this funny feeling inside.
He wouldn't admit to anyone; not Melissa, not the teacher, not the lines on the ceiling of his art class, but there was just no point in denying it to himself: He had a large crush on Serena Thompson.
"Jeff?" his dad's voice echoed up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. "Are you here?"
"Coming!" Jeff yelled, shaking himself out of the reverie he had let his mind slip into. He yawned and stretched, rolling off of his bed and getting to his feet. He opened the door and slowly walked down the stairs to where his father was waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase. "What's up, Dad?"
"Just checking to see if you were here," his dad said, smiling slightly. "I've got a couple of clients." He motioned towards the door where a younger couple was standing together, smiling and happy. "I might be back late again, son. You can order out, if you want." He handed Jeff a twenty dollar bill.
"Dad, why can't you just come home?" Jeff asked, feeling his hope falling again. His father was always working; he took his job just way too seriously. He always tried to make up for it with money and gifts, but it never really replaced his absence in the house. Jeff's mom lived up in New York, she had left them when he was three, so he was virtually always in his room, alone, reading or drawing or something of the sort.
"Because, son, I've got to attend to business," he said importantly, but frowned at the look on Jeff's face. Softer and quieter, he said, "Listen, Jeff, I'm really sorry. I'm going to try to get off early tomorrow, then you and I can go out for pizza or a game or something. I know it's hard with me never being here, but you can take care of yourself, right? You're a tough man!" And with that he smiled and showed the young couple out the front door.
Jeff sighed, looking down at the twenty dollar bill in his hand. He wearily turned and climbed the staircase, shuffling his feet all the way to his room. He closed the door and dropped down to his knees, then to his stomach. With his hands, he shuffled through the load of crap underneath his bed and came up with a glass jar that was literally bursting with twenty dollar bills marked, "College Funds". He unscrewed the lid, shoved the money into it, closed it, and through it back underneath his bed. He got up, and went down into the kitchen to make himself some dinner.

Serena came home that day to something that was quite rare. As she walked into the door and dropped her things near the couch, she heard voices coming from the parlor. Curiously, she wandered through the living room and into the open parlor door, where her mother sat drinking tea with a younger man who looked to be in his early twenties.
"Ah, Serena, home at last," her mother said, an unnatural happiness about her. "Tim, I'd like you to meet my daughter Serena. Serena, this is Timothy. Tim is from your father's company; he's looking for a young poet and I told him I had just the girl."
Serena looked inquiring, but smiled at the young man just the same.
"Nice to finally meet you," he said, shaking her hand. "I've heard a lot about you. Wow, your mom told me how smart you were but she never said anything about how beautiful you were."
Serena felt herself blush in spite of herself, feeling quite suspicious of this handsome stranger. "Why thank you, sir," she said, smiling, trying to be polite.
He smiled back at her. His eyes were a twinkling periwinkle blue, and he was about six feet tall. His brown hair was cut short, falling just below his ears. Serena thought she knew him, and had probably seen him around her father's office before.
"So, what do you need a poet for?" she asked, taking a seat on one of the more cushiony chairs near her mother. "Forgive me, but I don't see any possible need of a bicycle company for poetry."
The man smiled again, looking at Serena's mom. "Well, you see, this year our company is sponsoring an art fair to raise money for the fire victims in Valley Center, you know, as a promotional thing, and we were thinking that for a center piece for the auction we could have a young poet write us a beautiful poem about life and set it to a picture around it. I was voicing this idea with your father the other day and he told me of a certain poem and picture set that you had made once, and I just had to come and talk to you about it."
Serena was speechless. "Wait, are you telling me that you want to sell my work?"
Tim nodded happily. "That is, if you agree to it. It might go for as much as $2000, because there are a lot of rich people from Temecula that are coming to the fair. You'd have three weeks to get it done. do you say?"
Tim smiled, and her mother looked apprehensive. Serena sighed.
"Well, okay, I suppose I'll give it a go."
Tim's smile became even larger. "Excellent," he said happily. Serena's mother let out a relieved breath. "Understand as well, there might be some colleges and universities looking around for people to give scholarships to. Keep that in mind." He winked. "Well, Liz, it's been great seeing you. Serena, nice meeting you. You can contact me at your dad's work if you have any questions. I best be off."
"I'll show you out," Serena's mom said happily, and stood with him, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around hers. The two of them walked out through the living room, leaving Serena to her thoughts all alone in the parlor room.