But that was before.
“You sure about that?” she presses.
I take a breath and look out the kitchen window, the early morning light spreading across the backyard. I’m not mad atmy sister for pushing. She doesn’t understand that I couldn’t do a single thing to hurt this girl.
“She makes me feel different,” I say. “Sav didn’t want me, she wanted the football star. I know Iris ain’t like her, she’s a good woman. You’d know it if you met her, Liz. And the way I feel when I’m with her, I’ve never felt anything like it.”
I pause before adding, “Not even with Savannah.”
“Wow. You actually sound serious.”
“I am.”
She lets the silence stretch, then continues, her tone much more serious than it was five seconds ago, “I think she does like you. But it sounds like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“She looked at me last night like…” I trail off, trying to find the right words. “Like maybe no one ever told her she was beautiful before. Like she didn’t believe me.”
“Don’t be the guy who proves her right. If she’s scared, give her a reason not to be. You’re good at showing up for people, Nate. That’s what you do best. Keep being steady, and I think it’ll work itself out.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can. You’re the most stubborn jackass I know.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Anytime. And Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“If she’s still on the fence, I can talk to her for you. I’m sure knowing she’ll get such a good sister-in-law out of the deal will encourage her to date you if nothing else.”
The school is kinda creepy in the morning without all the students. It’s quiet, but in a high school, you’re not really usedto that. No voices or footsteps, only the occasional shuffle of a teacher arriving and unlocking their door.
I start into the art wing, coffee in hand, trying not to feel like an anxious teenager with a crush. My heart’s already pounding harder than it should be, but I tell myself it’s the caffeine.
When I reach Iris’s classroom, I can see that the lights are on, so I push the door open, but stop at the sight of her.
She’s behind an easel with a paintbrush in her hand. Her wavy hair pulled back, and her overalls are covered in paint. There’s a sliver of brown skin showing on her sides, and that lip’s between her teeth in concentration.Shit.
I let out a sound, some sort of gasp that I’m not gonna dwell on.
Ain’t my fault she looks like that.
She flinches, dropping her paintbrush and splattering blue paint across the floor. “Nate?” she gasps, getting off her stool to pick up the dropped brush. “What are you doing here?”
“Brought you something,” I say, holding out the coffee cup. “Scaring you wasn’t part of the plan.”
She bends down and wipes up the paint. “It’s okay,” she says, dropping the dirty rag in one of the back counter sinks and nodding toward her painting. “I was distracted.”
I step forward, handing her the coffee, but she hesitates before crossing the room to take it. “You didn’t have to—”
“Didn’t mind. I wanted to see you.” She looks up at me, all startled and wide-eyed, like she wasn’t expecting that, but I carry on like normal.
“You always paint this early?”
“I like the quiet,” she admits.
“Really? I thought it was sorta creepy.”
