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Soon after leaving my house, he says, “I read a book once that says the heart sometimes does things without the mind realizing, and that it’s in fact, what the person truly wants.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Random, but okay.”
He snorts. “You still haven’t realized.”
Twisting my mouth from side to side, I try to figure it out. My body warms as our phone call pops into my head again. “Ahem. I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your painting. You left it on the backseat yesterday.”
Right. “I totally forgot about that.” I peer around. It’s not there. Looking at him, I ask, “You didn’t bring it?”
Brandon releases a long exhale. “Your heart genuinely wanted me to have it; that’s why you left the painting in my car.” He flashes me a sneaky smile. “It’s mine now, little artist. Besides, you said you’d give me paintings for the easel.”
After witnessing the way his mesmeric blues glistened at my artwork, it was the only thought that occurred. I almost feel like giving him every single thing I paint, if only to keep seeing the softness in his expression that he doesn’t show often.
“So, um, you enjoy reading?” I switch the topic, picking at my skirt.
“Yes. Mainly non-fiction.”
“Cool.” At least that’s something he’s willing to share. “I enjoy mostly fantasy.”
I manage a peek, noticing the nod as if he’s filing to memory.
Arriving at school, Brandon kills the engine and waits. I sense him watching me.
I’m about to leave the car when he says, “Stop.”
I glance over for a second before steering my gaze out the window.
“You’ve barely looked me in the eye since we left your house. What’s the matter?”
“I don’t…know what you mean.” I peer down at my lap and flick my nails.
“Interesting.” Brandon lowers his voice to a flirty octave, saying, “Are you suddenly shy with me because of last night, little artist?”
Gathering confidence, I lift my head and turn to him. “Not at all. I have nothing to be shy about.”
He pulls his mouth into a half-smile that stimulates me. Shit. It’s a struggle to keep it together.
“Good.” He moistens his lips. “I look forward to seeing you demonstrate what you were doing to yourself last night.”
“Ugh.” I narrow my eyes and say bravely, “More like you should show me what you were doing, Brandon Decker.”
His jaw twitches. “Are you daring me again, little artist?”
“What if I am?” rushes out.
He smirks.
I open the door and leave the car, hiding the naughty smile on my face.
Following social studies, Brandon tells me to sit with him and his friends at lunch since Sam has a presentation to prepare for, and he’s bothered by the fact that I’ll be eating with Rajid.
Not in the mood to protest, I promise I’ll join him shortly and head to the bathroom.
While I’m at the sink, washing my hands, Madison enters with two other girls, including the one from Saturday at the bakery.
They eye me with scorn from head to toe before turning to the mirror to check their makeup. Madison applies nude gloss to her plump lips. One of her friends takes out a red polish and leans against the sink, touching up her nails.
