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It’s not exceptionally beautiful. In fact, it almost looks… dead? No, what really stands out is the message it holds. The pain radiating from it. My eyes sweep over the words cut out from magazine pages and clumsily glued on.
What if,
Forgive,
Never,
Damn, this guy’s life does not sound easy.
“Enjoying my talents?”
I jerk in surprise and whip around, expecting to find one of the loners of the class staring back at me, but the person I see instead… is the well-liked guy who always wears a smile.
Will.
I forgot I shared this class with him.
I blink at him. “Wait, that’s yours?”
Only then do I realize I’m holding his project. Picked it up for a better look. He must think I’m a weirdo.
He arches an eyebrow. “Might be. Why? That so hard to believe?”
“It’s just so…”
Sad.
“I know. Picasso ain’t got shit on me,” he teases, swiping his project out of my hands and setting off for his table.
Except that his table isn’t his.
It’s mine.
Morgan’s just as confused as I am when Will plops down in Bianca’s seat without a care. I follow, sitting across from him. He notices our perplexed expressions and huffs a laugh.
“Teacher didn’t tell you? I’m a ‘nuisance’ when I sit with Alex. I’m at your table now. Surprise.”
Morgan and I exchange sideways looks.
“What’s wrong, control freak?” His eyes lift to mine. “Are you not happy to see me?”
My cheeks heat up on cue.
What the fuck, Kass?
“About damn time they sent another guy here,” Luke says, and he and Will start up a conversation.
My mind returns to his tree.
I would’ve expected his words to be downright stupid. I mean, that’s Will, the guy who once got so drunk at my brother’s birthday he sang “Hello” by Adele to every guest he saw for three hours straight. He’s the guy initiating “how many hot Cheetos can I put into my mouth without puking” competitions with my brother.
Will is not a tortured soul.
Or deep.
Will is Will, end of story.
Kicking unwelcomed thoughts out of my brain, I focus on my own tree. I swear the harder I try, the uglier it gets.
