When it seemed that no one was looking, Joe put his face close-so close-down to the page, about two or three inches away, so he could finally see it. Joe was short and skinny, parted his dark hair carefully on the side, and wore glasses that were incredibly thick. He tried to shift his dangling feet so no one could see they weren't hitting the floor. His books wobbled in a pile under his desk. It hovered there for a moment, floating over the page. With his left hand, he brought his pencil down at a forty-five-degree angle over the paper. Joe had finished his sketch a good ten minutes ago and was looking for something else to draw.
She was bent over a student who clearly needed help portraying the simple bowl of fruit at the front of the room. JOE SHUSTER BLINKED at the back of his art teacher.
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