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Me: Leave me alone & act professionally.
A-hole: As professional as you right?
I held down the power button on my phone until it turned off, then looked up, waiting until I had Luke’s attention. I knew it wouldn’t take long—he took every opportunity he could to send his icy glares my way.
As soon as our eyes collided, I mouthed, “Fuck. Off.”
His gaze went straight to my lips, and his eyes darkened, glittering dangerously.
I completely lost my train of thought.
We stared at each other wordlessly.
I was helpless to look away, trapped in his sights.
The spell was broken by Ethan clearing his throat, giving us both a pointed look. Returning my attention to the meeting with a sigh, I decided to pretend Luke wasn’t there. Someho
w, with a Herculean effort, I managed to block him out and give my full attention to the discussion.
After work I caught the Tube to London Bridge station and made the ten-minute walk to Horizons Youth Centre. Pushing open the heavy double doors, I headed down the corridor and into the side room where the art supplies were already laid out. The youth centre was part of a larger community centre, with a huge sports hall, games room, café (that was open during the day), and several smaller rooms that could be used for various activities. I’d been volunteering there every couple of weeks or so for the past six months, mostly running art projects. Art was a passion of mine. It wasn’t necessarily something I was particularly good at, but I loved spending time with the kids and seeing what they came up with.
“Evening.” Nick, the youth centre director, greeted me. “I come bearing hot chocolate.” He placed the cup down next to the art supplies, and I gave him a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Nick. How many do we have booked in for this evening?”
He shuffled through the papers in his hand. “Let me see…eight. Six girls and two boys.” Smiling, he turned to leave, shuffling out of the room. In his mid-sixties, Nick had been running the youth centre for over twenty-five years. He was a well-loved figure in the local community, and his outreach efforts had made a difference in the lives of so many people.
I called a goodbye after him and started sorting the art supplies into eight piles. Within half an hour the small room was full, and I handed out paper and charcoal to everyone.
“Thank you all for coming.” I looked around the room, making sure I met everyone’s eyes. I knew most of the teens from previous classes, and they smiled back at me. “I thought today we could have a go at charcoal sketches. Nothing too strenuous.” I stepped into the middle of the room, gesturing at the table I’d set up. “As you can see, we have three items here. An apple, a pine cone, and a glass of water. I want you to choose one item—or more than one, if you like, and sketch it. Feel free to create your own interpretation. Note the lines, the curves, and the way the shadows fall.” I moved to my own table and sat down. “As usual, I’ll do the same, and you can see my efforts afterwards.”
I picked up a stick of charcoal and began to draw. The room was silent other than the sound of charcoal scratching against paper, and I found myself relaxing as I sketched. Before I knew it, thirty minutes had passed.
“Okay, how did everyone get on?” I stood and walked to everyone’s tables, examining their work and praising their efforts. When I reached the final table, Daria, the fourteen-year-old redhead who was a regular at the centre, looked up at me.
“Olivia? Can I ask you something?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.
“What is it?” I crouched down next to her table.
“Well…some of us were wondering if we could draw a real person sometime. Maybe a boy?” She blushed.
“A man! And he needs to be good-looking,” sixteen-year old Aisha shouted from across the room, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, really?” I contemplated her question, trying not to laugh as the girls all erupted into excited chatter, while the two boys pulled faces and rolled their eyes at each other. Maybe I could see if Alex would mind. Thinking about it, he’d probably love it since he’d be the centre of attention. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try to sort something out for you all.” Grinning, I headed back to my own table and proceeded to show everyone my drawing. As usual, there was some good-natured teasing—mostly from the boys. My skills lay more in guiding the teens than in drawing, that much was clear from my efforts.
As the teenagers filed out of the room, I gathered up the supplies, placing them in a neat pile on the table ready for the caretaker to put away in the supply room. Taking one last glance around the room to ensure I hadn’t missed anything, I turned off the lights and headed to the bus stop to make my way home.
5
Luke
Click. Click. Click.
“Will you stop clicking your bloody pen?” I hissed to Payne. She was standing, pen in hand, at the water cooler, which was inconveniently positioned right next to my desk.
She turned to face me, widening her big blue eyes innocently. “Oh, I’m sorry, is it bothering you?” she asked in a sickly-sweet tone. I opened my mouth to make a disparaging remark but was interrupted by my desk phone ringing.
“Yes?” I answered curtly.
